My True Love Gave to Me
by time4moxie
Summary: Jim receives a gift the day after Christmas. And then another one the next day. And again for the 10 days after. Is it a joke, or has his True Love come forward?
1. On The First Day of Christmas

The morning after Christmas Jim was the first to arrive in the office. He purposely came in a bit early, hoping to make the best use of the quiet. Hanging his coat up on the stand, his gaze rested on the reception desk. He remembered the short phone call he got yesterday morning. Pam had called him at around ten o'clock Christmas morning, to wish him a Merry Christmas. She talked about spending Christmas Day at her parents' house, and after the call he'd spent much of the rest of the day thinking about her. It still amazed him how much she influenced him. After her gift of Dwight's prank on Friday, his thoughts of her yesterday were not as bittersweet as they had been. In fact, her call had lifted his spirits for most of the day. Karen had called in the afternoon, and the conversation was longer, but seemed hollow. He'd forgotten most of what she'd said by the time they hung up.

He'd gone home to his apartment in the early evening, and found himself feeling disconnected, restless. He grabbed his iPod, stretched out on his bed, and drowned his sense of loneliness in music. He'd been doing that a lot since the summer. It was a self-defense mechanism he'd developed as a teen. It was incredibly easy for him to shut out the world just by putting on his favorite songs. As he did that Christmas night, however, thoughts of Pam wouldn't leave him alone. He would listen to a song and wonder what she'd make of it. Soon he found himself pulling together some of his favorite acquisitions, songs he'd picked up since moving to Stamford and back. He burned them into a mix CD. He printed out a detailed sheet of the songs, artists, and notes and fit it into the jewel case. And this morning it sat in his messenger bag, a slightly late Christmas gift for Pam.

He sat at his desk and took the CD out of his bag. He fingered the edges of the CD's jewel case. He was aware that it was pretty personal gift to give someone he'd been trying to keep some emotional distance from. But her CIA prank really touched him, even if he did first reject it. She was so incredible. He always felt that their best pranks had sprung from her ideas and comments. When they were caught up in their fun, he felt alive. And for a few moments on Friday, he couldn't deny he'd felt that all again. It might make more sense to avoid falling into their old patterns, but that denied the reality that being together with her just felt so damn good. It felt right.

He heard the office door open and he quickly slid the CD back into his bag. It was Pam, as he expected. He wasn't ready to give her his present, so he turned back to his computer. 

Pam was surprised to see Jim already at his desk. "Hey," she said, hanging her coat next to his. "You're here early."

Jim looked up. "Yeah, well this paper won't sell itself."

"Oh that's right," she grinned. "I forgot - you've 'evolved'. You're all about the company now, Mister Number Two."

Jim couldn't resist smiling at her taunts. "We could do with a little less of your sarcasm, Miss Beesly, and a little more of you sitting down and doing you're work. You are on company time now, you know."

She stared at him for a moment, trying hard not to laugh. "Hey, Halpert," she said, her grin slipping out. "Suck it, okay?"

She sat down in her chair and turned on her computer. She could hear him laughing quietly, and she thought that today looked to be a good day.

By nine o'clock those who hadn't taken the day off where at their desks, back into the swing of things. It was exceptionally quiet as about half the office had taken a vacation day. Michael was off in Jamaica, which placed Jim in charge for the day. 

When Pam remembered this she sent him an IM:

PB: Do we have to call you Mr. Halpert while Michael's gone, Mr. 2nd-in-command?

JH: No. Jim will do for everyone EXCEPT you. You may call me Your Highness.

PB: Pfft. In your dreams. I have a better title I'd rather call you. :-P

Jim turned in his chair to raise an eyebrow at Pam. She stuck out her tongue in emphasis.

JH: Nice. Amazing how quickly the spirit of Christmas is lost around here.

PB: Well some of us didn't have the spirit of Christmas to begin with.

JH: I don't know. I thought you pretended pretty well on Friday.

PB: Me? Hey, at least I got you a gift...

Pam regretted her response as soon as she sent it. She was teasing, but feared he'd think she was serious. She didn't want him to think she'd been expecting anything especially given how things had been between them. Because she really, really didn't. His response surprised her.

JH: Christmas isn't over yet, Beesly.

Pam was interrupted from replying by the arrival of a delivery person walking into the office. An attractive slender Indian woman walked up to the reception desk. "I have a delivery for Jim Halpert," she told Pam.

"I can take it," Pam said, reaching for the box.

"I'm sorry," the woman said. "I need to get a signature from Mr. Halpert."

Jim stood up, having overheard the conversation. "I'm Jim Halpert."

The delivery woman, dressed in an orange polo shirt and jeans, gave him a clipboard and a pen. "Sign on the top line next to your name," she instructed him. 

He did, and she gave him a lunch box sized white box. "Thanks. Have a good day," she said as she walked out of the office.

Jim sat down and inspected the box. It was addressed to him, with Dunder Mifflin's address. However there was no return address and it had no postage marks of any sort. He took his scissors out and carefully slit the tape to open the box. He first pulled out some red tissue paper, then a heart shaped red metal tin, and then a CD of The Partridge Family's Greatest Hits.

He laughed in amazement. "What the hell ...?" he said softly to himself. 

He opened the heart tin to find greenish-yellow Jelly Bellies. Putting a few in his mouth, he discovered they were pear flavor - and pretty tasty, too. He looked inside the box, and found a squarish thick envelope at the bottom. Inside, wrapped in red tissue paper, was a stained glass ornament on a gold ribbon. It was square and flat, and written in gold across the top border of milky white glass were the words "On The First Day of Christmas" with the glass work clearly depicting a heavily leafed pear tree with its fruit and a single partridge on a branch.

A flat card fell out of the envelope, too. It was made of the same thick paper as the envelope. Printed in a cursive font was a short message: The Partridge Family got it wrong. I don't think, I know.

There was nothing else in the envelope. Nothing else in the box that indicated who had sent it all. Jim ate a few more jelly beans and ran it all through his mind. Had he not known better, he would immediately credit this package to Pam. The details were too good, The Partridge Family CD too cheesy. And then there were the jelly beans. He held the stained glass panel carefully in his hands, tilting it up to the light to see the colors vibrate and sparkle. It was very delicate, and very beautiful. And he wished for a long moment that this present was from Pam. In his version of the world it would be just another example of her love for him. 

But he knew his version was wrong. This wasn't from her. It couldn't be from her. She didn't love him, that much she'd made clear. He had looked up at her after he opened the gift, and she was too busy at the computer to even notice what he was doing. If this was from Pam she would have caught his eye and given him that full open smile, that slightly giddy but bashful look that said she knew she'd been found out. But she wasn't even paying attention.

He carefully placed the ornament into the envelope and put it and the CD back in the box. He left the jelly beans on his desk, in front of the picture of his brother and him. This must have been a gift from Karen. She had wanted to share the holiday with him. She'd even hinted pretty hard that he should come home to Connecticut with her. But the idea made him anxious, like he was about to be caught doing something he shouldn't. Almost a trapped feeling, if he was being totally honest. So he told her his mother had already made big plans that he couldn't get out of. She took it like most things, with an accepting nod and a smile that never quite reached her eyes.

The box must have been just a little something to let him know she was thinking about her. He appreciated the effort, and knew that he should thank her. He reminded himself that she was his link to the sanity he so desperately wanted, and if she'd come up with such an idea, then maybe there was more to her than he'd given her credit for.

That afternoon he received a call from Karen. She'd just gotten back into town, and wondered if he wanted to get together for dinner.

"Yeah, sure, that sounds good," he told her. "and I'll pay as a way of thanking you for the gift."

"What gift?" she asked.

"The gift you had delivered to me this morning. It was really cute."

"I didn't send you anything. What was it?"

"Funny, Filipelli. The First Day of Christmas?"

"I swear, Jim. I didn't send you anything."

Suddenly Jim felt a bit nauseous. The realization hit him that this really wasn't from Karen. He turned in his chair to look at Pam, phone still held to his ear. 

"You still there?" Karen asked.

"Yes," Jim replied. "Just give me a minute." He gazed at Pam, watching her sort some papers on her desk. He was struck with how beautiful she was, and how oblivious she was to his staring.

"Sorry," he finally said, turning back around in his chair. "I was just thinking. This must have been a joke from my mother."

"Okay," Karen said, sounding like she thought he was babbling nonsense. "So let's meet at Cooper's at 5:30?"

Jim agreed and hung up the phone. He stared at the white box still sitting on the corner of his desk. It wasn't from Karen. He knew very well it wasn't from his mother. So unless he had an unknown secret admirer, that narrowed the sender to a very, very small pool of people. A pool of exactly one. 

Jim stood up and brought the box over to Pam's counter. "I don't suppose you know anything about the contents of this box," he said causally. He put his hands in his pockets to prevent her from seeing that he was shaking slightly. 

"I know it arrived today," she said, looking up at him. "I didn't see you open it, so no, I don't know what's in it. Why?"

"Because it seems I have a secret admirer," Jim replied.

"Really?" Pam looked at him curiously. "How exciting." She stood up. "What did you get?""

"A partridge in a pear tree," he replied, watching her carefully for her reaction.

"Get out of here," she groaned. "You did not."

He handed the box to her. "Look for yourself."

Pam sat back down and carefully opened the box. She laughed when she saw the CD. "You know, The Partridge Family really were an important influence in 70s pop culture. You could have done worse."

"There's also something in the bottom."

She took out the ornament. "Oh my God, Jim," she said as she gingerly held it in her hand. "This is phenomenal." She held it up to the light, just like Jim had done. "Very cool."

She put everything back in the box and gave it to him. "Do you think this is the first in a series?"

He shrugged. "I guess we'll see." He took the box and slumped back down in his chair. For as carefully as he watched her, she gave nothing away to indicate she was the sender. She genuinely seemed surprised and impressed. Now he had no idea what to think. 

He gathered up his things to leave a little early. As he put the box's contents carefully in his messenger bag, he found the CD he made for Pam. Things had gotten so hectic for him between the surprise delivery and with Michael gone that he'd totally forgotten to give it to her. He tidied up his desk and walked back to her desk.

"Hey, Beesly," he said, feeling a little nervous around her for the second time today.

"Hey, Halpert," she grinned.

"I know I didn't get you anything for Christmas, but I made this for you yesterday." He handed her the mix CD. "It's just some new stuff I've been listening to since the summer. You usually liked the other stuff I made you listen to, so I just thought you might like this."

She held the CD in her hand, staring at the hand drawn cover he'd made. "Thank you," she said softly. 

Jim leaned on the counter to watch her reaction. When she raised her head their faces were inches away. "Thanks, Jim," she repeated. "This is a wonderful gift. I can't wait to go home and listen to it tonight."

Their eyes met, and for a moment they both saw a glimpse of something more. Then they became aware of their closeness and both moved back. "I'm leaving a bit early," Jim said, grabbing his coat.

"Okay," she replied. "Have a good night."

"Yeah, you too."

Jim met Karen for dinner, but his mind was elsewhere. He knew Karen was speaking about her holiday with her family, and he remembered to nod at all the appropriate times. But her words flowed passed him as his mind kept wandering to the vision of a woman with long curling hair sitting home alone, listening to the same music he listens to when he's thinking of her. He hoped she was thinking of him as she heard the music. He hoped the lyrics hit the same hurting spots in her that it always did in him. 

And he desperately hoped she was the one who sent the white box. 


	2. On The Second Day of Christmas

The next morning Jim was in the office early again. He told himself that it helped him get a good jump start on the day's work, but deep down he was there for just one reason: he got a chance to spend a few minutes alone with Pam. Since his return, Jim had discovered she was habitually the first one in the office, sometimes by as much as a forty minutes. He decided to use the information to his advantage. He was greedy for what little bit of time alone he could get with her.

He was putting his lunch in the refrigerator when Pam came in. He was startled when he returned to his desk to find her already in her chair.

"Hey, Beesly," Jim said, walking over to her desk.

"Hey you," Pam replied, smiling up at him. "Making this a habit I see?"

Jim shrugged. "Consider it an early New Year's resolution."

"So you can break it before the first even arrives?"

Jim put his hand over his heart. "Pam, your confidence in me is touching."

Pam giggled, and the sound alone made Jim feel warm. "I'll tell you want I do have confidence in," she said.

Jim leaned on the counter. "And what's that?"

"You and your crazy music. Where do you find half that stuff?"

Jim grinned. "You liked the CD then?" 

"Oh yes, but it was more than that," Pam replied. She scrunched up her face in thought. "Some of them were really intense. I wouldn't say you listen to it as much as experience it." She smiled again. "But some songs were really bouncy and silly. You know, Jim, I'm not sure what a therapist would make of your choices."

Jim laughed, pleased that she got them. She really got them. Somehow he knew she would. "Shall I prepare a volume two any time soon then?"

"Bring it, Halpert," she grinned. "You can't scare me. Maybe I'll make you a mix CD of all my old favorite boy bands."

"Only if you promise to include a good sampling of New Kids on the Block," Jim pointed his finger at her, "Jordan Knight was totally dreamy."

Pam laughed and reached up to grab his finger, curling several of her smaller fingers around it. Jim struggled to free his finger, but found it soon became a game of hand wrestling, fingers interweaving, and his eyes never left hers. It had become a playful game, with undertones he could see they both were enjoying, but neither willing to admit.

When Karen walked into the office, she just stared at the ongoing tableau. She walked over to hang up her coat, and her movement alerted Jim and Pam of her presence. They both immediately broke away, looking guilty. 

"Morning, folks," Karen said softly, acting as if it were the most normal thing in the world to walk into work and find her boyfriend and the receptionist practically arm-wrestling, their laughter as intimate as if she'd caught them kissing.

"Hey," Jim mumbled as he quickly sat down at his desk. 

"H-Hi, Karen," Pam stammered, "How was your Christmas?"

Jim flipped through files on his desk, but kept his focus on their conversation. There was nothing surprising revealed between the two women, mostly Karen repeating her Christmas adventure in the familiar phrases he heard last night. Unlike he did however, Pam seemed to actually listen to her. Jim felt another wave of guilt; it was becoming too common an occurrence lately. Dating Karen was supposed to be a fun distraction. So when did his relationship with her turn into yet another drama in his life? 

Jim had plenty of time to dwell on it all as the morning passed painfully slowly. He had looked up several times to find Karen staring at him, her expression far from her usual smirking smile. He felt like she was watching him, and it kept him from approaching Pam's desk for the rest of the morning. He hadn't done anything wrong, and yet he felt guilty.

It was just after eleven when the second package arrived. Jim was startled when he heard Pam call his name. He turned and saw the same woman in the same orange polo shirt standing at reception. She was carrying another white box, roughly the same size as yesterday's. 

The woman was eyeing him with a look of indifference, but Jim couldn't help but smile. "Haven't we done this before?" he asked her as he signed the release. 

She raised and eyebrow but didn't smile. "Have a good day, Mr. Halpert," she said, handing him the box. Jim turned to Pam, and they shared a smile.

"Friendly, hmm?" Jim smirked.

"She probably has a tough schedule this time of year," Pam said generously. She eyed the white box. "I wonder what's arrived today."

He looked at the box and then back at Pam. "You want me to open it here?" He asked.

She shrugged, but he could see her interest reflecting in her eyes. "Yeah! I mean, if you don't mind. It might be kind of personal."

Jim chuckled. "About as personal as a gift from a mystery person can be." He looked at Pam again, searching her face for any hints that might give her away as the sender. But like yesterday, he saw nothing. "Scissors please, Beesly," he requested.

She handed him the scissors and stood up to better watch him. Once he opened the box, Jim took out some crinkled green tissue paper.

"Yesterday's was red," he commented.

"Points for variety there," Pam replied.

Jim smiled at her and pulled out two thick paperback books: Days of Infamy and End of the Beginning. He had a confused look on his face until he read the author's name. "Harry Turtledove," he said. "Clever." He also found two Dove chocolate bars - one milk, one dark. And at the bottom, another envelope.

"Harry Turtledove?" Dwight walked over to Jim from the copier. "Question: What are you doing with books by Harry Turtledove? 

"They are a gift," Jim replied.

Dwight looked from Jim to Pam. "Fact: Harry Norman Turtledove is an American Historian and Novelist best known as the Master of Alternative History. He has won both Hugo and Nebula Awards, and has also written under the names Dan Chenenko, Eric G. Iverson, Mark Gordion, and HN Turtletaub. What books do you have?"

Jim handed Dwight the two books. "Hmm, the Japanese series. A very good choice, though I am assuming you have already read the colonization series?"

Jim shook his head. "No, I haven't had a chance to get to those yet. This is my first exposure to his writing."

Dwight stared at him. "Where have you been? Who else have you been reading then?"

Jim tried hard to hide his amusement. "Ah, well - I've mostly read from the Choose-Your-Own Adventure series, actually."

"Really?" Dwight seemed interested. "I am not familiar with that work. Who writes it?"

"Ah, there are a variety of authors, if I remember correctly," Jim replied.

Dwight nodded. "Send me a link from about it so I can read the reviews. I always enjoy a new alternate history perspective." He walked back to his desk while Jim rested his head on his arms that were leaning on the reception counter. He felt himself shaking as he tried to prevent himself from laughing too loudly. 

He looked up at Pam, and the amusement on her face nearly started him laughing again. "It looks like we know who your true love is," Pam whispered. "He's trying to turn you on to his interests."

"If he is my true love, then the best thing for everyone is for me to go home and kill myself," Jim replied. "Don't even joke like that."

"Is there anything else in there?" She asked.

Jim pulled out the white envelope. He held it up to show Pam, and then gently opened it. As expected, a square stained glass ornament was enclosed, this one inscribed with the words "On The Second Day of Christmas." He lifted it up to the light to show Pam the the shades of blue and green that made up the background, while two white and brown mottled turtledoves nested together in the center, their heads together and tail feathers touching.

"Wow," Pam said. "You know, these pieces look handmade. Maybe Dwight has a glass studio out at the farm?"

"Don't ruin this for me, Beesly," Jim said, realizing as the words came out he was half-serious. "These are much too beautiful to be slandered like that."

He saw her looking at him curiously. "I mean, honestly," he continued, trying to switch back to a lighter tone. "Could Dwight really be this creative?"

She nodded, "I guess you're right." She looked at the ornament again, sitting on the counter. "Oh look, I didn't notice the space between the birds is heart-shaped."

Jim took another look, and sure enough, the two heads bent together formed the outline of the top two half-circles at the top, and the feathers met forming a point at the bottom. He smiled slightly. But said nothing.

He saw that there was a note in the envelope, but felt awkward reading it in front of Pam. He still hoped she was behind all of this, but if she wasn't... Well, he had no idea how he felt if this wasn't from her. He slipped the card into his pocket. Better to leave the serious stuff out of their interactions for now.

Jim looked at his watch. "I guess I better be getting back to work," he said, putting the books and the ornament back into the box.

"Yeah, me too," Pam said. "Thanks."

Jim furrowed his brow. "Thanks for what?"

Pam's expression was unreadable. "For sharing your treasure," she said, indicating the box.

"Oh," Jim replied, surprised. He smiled. "No problem, Beesly."

Jim had barely sat down at his desk when Ryan rolled his chair over. "What's going on, Halpert?"

"What do you mean?"

Ryan indicated the white box now on Jim's desk. "You got one of those yesterday, didn't you?" Jim nodded. "So what's this all about?"

Jim felt himself flush a little. "It's nothing, man. Just some joke someone is playing on me."

"What sort of joke?"

Ryan has never been one to show much interest in my personal life before, Jim thought. Why of all times is he asking questions now? "Well, you've heard of that Christmas song The Twelve Days of Christmas?"

Ryan nodded. "Oh yeah, sure."

"Yesterday I was sent something for The First Day of Christmas."

Ryan nodded in understanding. "And today you got something for The Second Day of Christmas."

"Yep."

"So who's playing the joke?"

Jim shrugged. "I haven't figured that part out yet."

"Weird." Ryan said, rolling his chair back toward his own desk. "That sounds like something Kelly would do, except she'd get bored of it by about day four."

Jim waited until Ryan was back at his desk working, and then slipped the card out of his pocket. He noticed a corner of the card had creased slightly, and he pressed it out on his desk. Today's card read:

What would you do if you could change the past? I know what I'd do.

God what wouldn't I do? He thought. He tucked the card into the box, and pushed it off to the side. I could spend days thinking about that question.

Jim had finally managed to focus on the day's reports when Karen leaned up against his desk. "You standing me up for lunch today?" She asked.

Jim looked up, started by her voice. "Oh. Yeah. Sorry about that," he said. "I kinda lost track of time."

Karen looked over at the white box. "I see you got another parcel. This one from your mother, too?"

Jim shook his head. "No, I talked to my mom, and she said she never sent anything."

"So who are these from?"

"I honestly don't know," Jim said, looking up at her. "I'm assuming it's a joke and I'll find out eventually." He tried to maintain a tone of disinterest in the gifts. He didn't really feel comfortable sharing this with her. A tiny voice in the back of his mind inconveniently pointed out that he didn't seem to have a problem sharing it with Pam.

"So what did ya get today?" Karen asked, reaching for the box.

Jim grabbed the box before she did. He pulled out the two books and the chocolates, then closed the box. "A couple of alternative history books by a guy named Harry Turtledove, and some chocolate."

"Not very romantic for a true love, huh?" Karen said. "Mind if I have one of the chocolate bars?" She reached out and took the milk chocolate before he could respond.

Jim was irritated at her assumption that the candy was for sharing, but couldn't say anything without seeming rude. "Sure," he replied. "I think I'll just eat lunch at my desk today. I'm getting a little behind in this paperwork with Michael gone."

"Oh, okay," Karen said. "Want to have dinner at my house tonight?"

"I think I promised Mark to hang out with him tonight, actually," Jim replied, shifting in his chair. He never was a very good liar. He just couldn't be sure he'd want to be in anyone's company tonight.

He couldn't tell if Karen believed him or not, but she accepted it and walked back to her desk. It seemed like every day they were moving just a little bit further apart. He knew it was mostly his fault, and he knew he should just sort it out or break it off. He couldn't bring himself to tell her the truth, that he was slowly losing what little interest he had in her. He hated confrontations more than anything. They never went well for him. But he knew it was unfair of him to just go with the flow, knowing he was pulling away a little more everyday. He was more afraid, however, of facing the cause of his growing disinterest in Karen: a pair of sparkling hazel eyes, an infectious laugh, and a warm heart that he wished everyday belonged to him. But it didn't, did it? With the arrival of these mystery packages, he didn't know what to think anymore.

Jim spent the rest of the afternoon doing his paperwork, making some calls, and trying hard not to think about anything personal. Toward the end of the day he decided to call Mark, to see if he was up to couple games of basketball down at the Y. They agreed to meet up at six, and maybe head out for a few drinks later. He really needed a good couple of hours to burn off his frustrations and clear his head, and at the same time, he knew Mark would be a good sounding board. He knew Mark would get a kick out of the gifts he'd been receiving.

Jim was standing up to leave when he noticed Pam was putting her coat on. Well, she was trying to, but her scarf was threading around her sleeve, and she was struggling to free it. He walked over to help.

"Whoa, Beesly," he teased, "I think the coat is winning this round."

She sighed. "I need a new coat. This one drives me nuts." He soon had her scarf freed from the sleeve, and helped her slip her arm in. "Thanks," she said.

"Need help buttoning it, or I can trust you to not get tangled up in that, too?"

She smiled up at him as he slid his coat on. "I think I can managed."

"Yeah, I'm sure you thought that about your sleeve, too."

She gave him a slight push in response as he walked back to his desk to get his messenger bag and today's box. 

"I wonder what you'll get tomorrow," she mused as they walked out of the office together.

"No idea."

"Hmm," Pam said, "me neither."

Jim held the door as they headed out into the parking lot. As he watched her walk to her car, he wondered if she was telling the truth or not. 


	3. On The Third Day of Christmas

The sound of the alarm going off at six-thirty felt like arrows piercing Jim's skull. He moaned and reached for the snooze button. He slipped back into sleep easily, only to be rudely awakened again nine minutes later. Uttering a string of profanities, Jim turned the alarm off. He rolled over in bed, feelings of pain hitting him on several levels. His body was sore and aching from three hours of basketball. He hadn't played much recently, and he definitely overdid it last night. His head was pounding with a killer headache earned by three hours of Half-Price Draft Pitcher Night. He and Mark drank as hard as they had played basketball. His heart was tender from the realization that nothing had really changed. After a night of hashing things out with Mark, he could no longer deny that he was still desperately in love with Pam.

Last night had started well enough. Mark was happy to see him, and they played several games of one-on-one before joining up with a larger group. Jim enjoyed the chance to channel some of his frustration out on the court. He'd always been extremely competitive in sports, a side of his personality even Pam would be surprised to see. If he could channel some of that aggression, some of that need for domination into his love life maybe he wouldn't feel so pathetic. Mark had often made that observation in the past. "You need to just get her out on the court, man. A little one-on-one and your smack talk would sort the two of you right out."

"I think a body slam is still a foul in romance, too," Jim replied.

"Yeah, but you get more than a free throw if it works out." Mark teased.

They'd ended up at Poor Richards after their play, and rehydrating with beer turned out to be a bad decision given how horribly his head was pounding. He couldn't remember how many pitchers they'd shared, but the conversation was still fresh in his mind. Over the first pitcher of beer Mark talked about how serious he and Anna were getting, and for once he didn't seem to be running from the idea. He'd been with Anna for over three years now, and it looked more and more like he was considering making the arrangement permanent. Jim had always liked Anna, and was happy for the two of them. After the second pitcher however, Jim confessed that he was envious of Mark having the woman he wanted. 

"We are going to start talking about Pam now, aren't we?" Mark has said in gently teasing manner.

"Who else?" Jim sighed. 

"So what happened to Karen?" Mark asked. 

"Nothing. She's still around."

"'Still around'? That doesn't sound good."

Jim shrugged. "We go out every now and then. No big deal." 

"But she's not the one keeping you up at night, hmm?"

Jim stared into his beer. "Nope. Not at all."

"Let me give you some advice, Halpert. Some advice from experience: it's never a good thing to date one woman while you're lusting after another. It will bite you in the ass, mark my words."

Jim chuckled. "It's not as exciting as your making it sound. It's not like Karen and I are serious."

"Well, of course not. How can you be if you're still hung up on Pam? You need to take some initiative Halpert. Either break up with Karen or tell her the truth about you and Pam."

"Nothing's going to happen between Pam and I. What do I need to tell her?"

"Don't delude yourself. Nothing has to happen for this to blow up in your face."

"What do I tell her? She knows Pam. And how do I tell her I don't want to date her because I'd rather sit at home alone and pine?"

"Don't be an idiot, Jim. Why the fuck would you sit and pine? Pam's single now, isn't she?"

"Yeah, she is. Has been for months."

"Then make a move - what the hell are you waiting on?"

"If she was interested in me, then why hasn't she done anything?"

"Who knows, man - but I'm sure you dating Karen isn't helping, for one thing." 

"Yeah, but what about before - she could have contacted me when I was in Stamford," Jim said, sounding petulant.

Mark smacked his hand down on the table. "Jim. Three words: Get over it. You'll never know if you don't ask, and you'll never know how things could be if you don't act on how you feel." 

Jim grimaced. "I did act on how I felt once, remember?"

Mark nodded, and took another sip of his beer. "Yes, of course I do. But this is a completely different situation." He refilled Jim's glass and motioned to the waitress for another pitcher. "Jim, think about it. Given everything you've gone through with Pam, don't you think you should be over her by now? But you're not. Face it - you are hopeless, man. The only thing to do in this situation is to just say 'fuck it' and go for it with her again. From everything you've told me since you've been back she is not giving 'go away' signals by a long shot. Just tell her 'Pam, this is how it is.' And then kiss the hell out of her."

Jim laughed. "Oh right, I don't know why I didn't think of that. Maybe because it's just not that easy."

"But it is! Buddy, you are thinking too much. Turn off the brain and start using the smarter parts of your body." 

Jim snorted. "Oh, because that's always worked so well for you."

"Maybe not always," Mark agreed, "but at least I'm the one sleeping with the girl I love."

Jim stared down into his glass. He had no answer for that last point. He turned the conversation to the recent mystery of the gifts he'd been receiving. Mark listened to the details of the packages, and responded by howling with laughter.

"You say you don't know how Pam feels and then you tell me about this? Do you need a clearer signal from the girl?"

"I don't know it's from her," Jim said defensively.

"Bullshit, Halpert," Mark replied. "Yes you do. Who else could they be from? Name one other woman who could be behind this?"

Jim shrugged. "I know her pretty well, and she's doing the best acting of her life if these have been from her. She seems as surprised as I am when they arrive."

"Of course she does - she's as pathetic as you are. Both of you are so afraid to be the one to make the first move." Mark sighed. "I'm telling you, Halpert - you don't get your shit together with her soon, I think I'm just going to lock you two up in your bedroom until you work things out." Mark took another swig of beer, then leered at Jim. "You do realize how much action you are missing out on each day you don't confront this? I've see her man - that chick has got to be incredible in bed. Those breasts alone look like you could - "

"Hey!" Jim interrupted, "let's not go there, okay? I certainly don't need any reminders of what I'm missing. Trust me, I know only too well."

Mark raised his eyebrow. "At least you're getting some with Karen, right?"

Jim drank down his beer and poured another, saying nothing. 

"Jim? Don't tell me you aren't at least benefiting from that relationship."

Jim glanced up at him, then looked away. "A few times, but it's been a while. It didn't feel right."

"What do you mean?" Mark asked incredulously. "She's hot."

"Oh, she...she is. I'm not talking physically." Jim paused. "It just depressed me."

Mark rolled his eyes. "Are you sure you're really a guy? I mean, is there something you've never mentioned to me, Jim?"

"Shut the fuck up, Mark," Jim said, his irritation evident. "Some of us do think with more than our dicks, asshole."

Mark laughed heartily. "Wow. Touchy. You seriously need to get laid, Halpert. If I were you I'd be nailing Pam by New Year's, if I could manage to hold out that long."

Jim drifted in and out of sleep, Mark's words in his head. By the time he was finally awake enough to remember that it was a work day, it was nearly eight o'clock. He felt as ill as he did earlier, and there was no way he was going to make into to work. He reached for his phone.

Her voice cheered him despite his condition. "Dunder Mifflin, this is Pam."

"Hey Pam," he croaked.

"Jim, what's wrong? You sound like hell."

"Thanks, I feel it."

"Are you okay?" She sounded concerned, and he smiled slightly.

"I've been better," he replied. "I don't think I'm going to be coming in today."

"What's the matter?"

Jim didn't want to confess he was hungover and out-of-shape. "I think maybe it's just a touch of the flu," he said.

"Do you need anything?"

Besides you? He thought. "I should survive," he said. "But thanks."

Pam was quiet for a moment. "Does this mean Dwight is in charge?"

Jim laughed, despite his pain. "I hadn't thought that far. I guess so."

"Thank you so very much for that," Pam said. "It's going to be a nightmare."

"Sorry, Beesly."

"I might have to leave early," she said. "Dwight in charge is going to make me sick."

"Well, in my official capacity I give you permission to take the rest of the day off if it becomes unbearable."

"Thanks, I'm sure it will." she laughed, then said softly "Hey, call me if you need anything, okay?" 

"Sure," he replied. "I'm just going to go back to sleep right now." Goodbyes said, Jim put the phone down and fell back to sleep, the concern in her voice making him feel slightly better already.

It was shortly after nine-thirty when Jim heard the incessant ringing of his front door bell. It took all his strength to sit up. His back and shoulders complained loudly at every move. At the thought of walking all the way downstairs he considered just falling back into bed and ignoring whoever was at the door. Instead he looked out his bedroom window to see if he could figure out if it was worth the effort. He gripped the window ledge tighter when he saw Pam's blue car in his driveway.

He wasn't sure if knowing it was her made him feel better or worse, but he made his way down the stairs. He was only too aware that he looked as bad as he felt. But it had to be a good thing that she was here, right?

By the time he reached the door he was worried she might be gone. The bell has stopped ringing when he was halfway down the stairs, but his aching muscles refused to propel him any faster. He opened the door, and felt a sense of relief to see her still standing there.

"Hey," he said, leaning against the door frame to try and hide his fatigue.

"God, you look worse than I thought," Pam replied.

"Thanks." Jim replied sourly. "Did you drop by just to compliment me? Or perhaps you felt the need come over to kick me, too?"

"Let me in, you idiot," Pam grinned. "You look like you're about to pass out."

Jim stepped back to let her in. "I think I'm holding up pretty well."

"Liar," she replied. She shut the door behind her. "Let's get you comfortable before you fall down."

She slid her arm around his waist to help him walk down the hall to the kitchen. He put his arm around her shoulders and limped slowly along. He slumped into a seat at the kitchen table as Pam took off her coat and rummaged through her bag. "Have you taken anything yet?" she asked.

"No," he replied, his head resting in his hands. 

She filled a glass with water and gave it to him along with two green and white tablets.

"What's this?" Jim asked

"Excedrine. The caffeine kick will help." He took the pills and washed them down obediently. Pam sat down in the chair next to him. "You want to tell me what really got you in this condition?"

He looked up at her. "Not buying the flu excuse?"

She shook her head. "I've seen this look before. You are definitely hungover." 

Jim couldn't resist a smile. "You're good, Beesly. I'll give you that."

She stood up to refill his glass. "The first thing we need to do is get you drinking a lot of water. That will help the headache. What else did you do to yourself? You're walking like your 130 years old."

"I played basketball with Mark last night," he confessed. "I guess I over did it."

"Not getting any younger, hmm?"

"I did okay," Jim replied defensively. "I'm just sore today."

Jim watched as Pam busied herself in the kitchen, filling a kettle with water and digging out some bread and the toaster. Soon she had tea and toast on the table. Despite the pain, the smells of the simple breakfast were enticing. "Thanks," he said, biting into the bread. "I appreciate you coming over."

"Well, I didn't do it just for you," she said, drinking her tea. "I had to escape Dwight's regime."

"That bad, huh?"

"Do I even have to go into it?" Pam frowned. "I figure I should at least come over here and make you as miserable as Dwight's making everyone else right now."

"I should have known you weren't here for philanthropic reasons." Jim said. "But trust me, I am in plenty of discomfort without your assistance."

She finished her tea and rested her elbows on the table, her head in her hands. "So what else hurts?"

Jim shifted in his chair. "My back and shoulders, mostly. My legs just feel stiff. I'm probably going to have to go lie down soon. This chair is not helping." Jim finished his toast and tea and had Pam help him to the futon in the living room. He was not able to find a comfortable position so Pam struggled to open the futon to a flat position. Lying diagonally on the mattress, Jim sighed and tried to stretch out, resulting in another groan of pain.

Pam sat on the edge of the mattress. "Do you have any Ben Gay or something?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe," Jim replied.

Pam cleared her throat. "I-I could put some on your back," Pam offered. "I'm sure it would make you feel a little better." 

Jim closed his eyes and imagined the scene Pam had just suggested. "Yea, okay," he croaked. "I think there might be some in the bathroom closet." He felt her get off the futon, and heard her walking up the stairs. He wondered briefly if this was really just a hallucination brought on by the pain. She returned quickly and kneeled on the futon. "Okay, let's get this shirt off," she said. Jim sat up halfway and pulled off his t-shirt. He felt a little nervous being shirtless in front of her and couldn't bring himself to look at her. He rolled back onto his stomach and waited.

He noticed her leg pressing against his as she sat down next to him. 

"Ready?" she asked.

"Sure," he replied, closing his eyes.

He felt her hands slowing spreading the lotion across his shoulders. Her touch was firm and soothing. She leaned against him as she rubbed the lotion in circles. The warming effect of the menthol cream was starting to unknot his muscles, but her touch was helping even more. She took her time working her way down his back, her fingers probing into his muscles in a soothing, rhythmic fashion. Jim moaned involuntarily.

Pam stopped. "I'm sorry - did I hurt you?"

"No," Jim replied, feeling a bit bashful at his outburst. "not at all. It feels wonderful." 

"Oh, okay," she said softly. "Good." She continued to massage his back, and when she reached the waistband of his sweatpants she applied more lotion to her hands and worked her way back up to his neck and shoulders. Jim felt so relaxed under her ministrations that he began to drift in and out of consciousness. By the time Pam had finished, Jim was fast asleep.

Jim opened his eyes and for a moment didn't know where he was. It took a moment to remember that he was in his living room. He was still lying on his stomach on his futon, a blanket draped over him. He remembered the massage and sat up. "Pam?" He called out, sitting up. He still wasn't sure if he'd dreamed she was here.

"Hey," Pam said, walking into the living room. "Feeling any better now?"

Jim ran his hand through his hair. "Yeah, actually. Still have a bit of a headache, though." 

Pam sat on futon, and passed him a glass of water from the end table. "Here. You need to drink more."

"I think that was my original problem," Jim joked, taking the glass.

Pam was smiling at his comment when they heard the doorbell ring. "Expecting someone?" Pam asked. 

"Not that I know of," Jim replied. "Can you get the door for me?"

"Sure," Pam replied. She stood up and picked up Jim's t-shirt from the floor. "You might want to put this on," she said, tossing it over to him.

Jim threw the blanket back and slipped the t-shirt over his head. His shoulders were definitely less sore. He wondered if he could get away with asking Pam to apply some more Ben-Gay later. He sat on the edge of the futon and heard Pam open the door. He couldn't quite make out the conversation, but the voice was definitely female. He was about to stand up when Karen walked into the living room, Pam following behind.

"Hey," Jim said, pulling himself up off the futon. "What's up?"

"I heard you were out sick today so I just thought I'd come over on my lunch break to see how you were," Karen said. "but I see you're already being well taken care of." The look on Karen's face made it clear she suspected something more than medical assistance was going on between Jim and Pam.

Jim didn't know quite what to say. Her unspoken accusation made him feel guilty, but he didn't see why he should be. "When I called in this morning I guess I sounded like death, and that scared Pam into visiting me," Jim replied. "I didn't ask her to come over."

Jim immediately regretted his words, as he saw the look on Pam's face. She looked like she'd been hit in the stomach, and turned and walked out of the living room. Damn, he thought, this is the part when it all bites me in the ass. I really don't need Mark's words to ring true at this particular moment.

"I'm already feeling a little bit better," he said to Karen, "so there's no need to worry about me. I'm sure I'll be back in work tomorrow." He started walking out of the living room and down the hall, hoping to encourage her to go. Fortunately, it appeared she was taking the hint. 

"Okay," she replied. "I think I'm beginning to see how it is."

"How what is?" he asked.

"You and me," she said, her voice calm as her eyes accused him. "I think we need to have a conversation sometime soon."

Jim met her gaze then looked away. "I know," he replied. "But it's not what you think."

"You don't know what I think, Jim," she said as she opened the front door. "and I'm beginning to suspect you don't even understand yourself."

Jim stood in the hallway for a few minutes after Karen left. He couldn't believe how quickly the good moments from this morning had been tossed on their head. He didn't want to feel guilty for Pam being here. When Karen walked in she seemed the intruder, not Pam. And yet in his inability to face reality he hurt Pam to cover up the awkwardness. He was only digging himself in deeper in the wrong direction. He walked into the kitchen, hoping to find Pam.

She was sitting at the kitchen table with another cup of tea. She didn't even look up when he sat down in the chair next to his. "Sorry about that," he said, trying to break the silence between them. "I didn't mean to make it sound like you weren't wanted here. I'm very glad you came over this morning."

"I don't want to come between you and Karen," Pam said evenly. "I shouldn't have come here."

"Of course you should have," Jim said. "We're friends. You were concerned about me. I would have been there for you if the situation was reversed."

"Really?" she asked looking up at him. 

"Do you doubt that I would?" Jim asked. "Have things changed so much that you find it hard to believe that I'd be there if you needed me?"

"It's more that I would feel it wasn't my place to ask that of you anymore," she said. "You have other priorities now."

Jim sat quietly for a moment, unsure of how to respond to that. He knew in his heart that there would never be anyone more important to him than her, but he was afraid to confess to that. Still he felt it was important to let her know that he wanted her to need him. 

"If you needed me, I'd be there," he finally said. 

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Pam drinking her tea and Jim wishing things could be different.  
As Pam stood up to put her tea cup in the sink, there was a knock at the door.

"It's party central around here," Pam said.

"I wish," Jim replied, and Pam laughed. Jim smiled at his ability to break the tension between them.

"Shall I get that again?" she asked.

"No, I think I can manage," Jim replied, standing up. "I really do feel a bit better."

His legs still stiff, Jim hobbled to the door. Waiting on the other side was his now familiar delivery person. She offered him the clipboard without even saying a word. Jim signed it, but before he handed it back, he looked at her curiously. "You aren't wearing any sort of name badge. Can I at least know your name?"

She looked as if she wasn't going to answer, but then smiled slightly. "It's Parma," she said. 

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Parma," he said, handing back the clipboard. "How did you know I was here?"

"It's my job to know that," she replied mysteriously. She handed him another white box, this one larger than the last two.

"See you tomorrow, I guess," Jim said to her as she walked away. She raised her hand up in a gesture of okay, or goodbye, or something. He watched her get into a green Saturn Ion, and knew that she was a key to proving who was behind this. The key to proving Pam was behind it. He closed the door and headed back to the kitchen.

The box made a thump on the kitchen table. Pam was in the process of putting her coat on when she looked surprised to see the box.

"Where are you going?" Jim asked.

Pam stumbled a bit over her words. "I thought I probably should get going," 

"Why?" Jim asked, looking serious. "I'm not feeling one hundred percent well yet."

"I think you can manage okay now," she said, picking up her purse.

Jim thought about his conversation with Mark and knew if he let her walk out it now it would destroy the fragile connection he felt they had built today. So he walked over to her, took her purse out of her hands and put it down on the floor. "I'd like you to stay a little longer. Please? " She looked up at him, and he thought she looked uncertain. "At least stay while I open my Third Day of Christmas present."

She nodded. "Okay," she said, slipping her coat off. He took the coat and threw it on the floor next to the purse.

"So what's the gift for the Third Day of Christmas?" Jim asked as he opened the box. "Three French Hens?"

Pam nodded. Jim pulled out red tissue paper, wadded it up and threw it at Pam. She smiled and put it on the table. Next Jim pulled out a heavy hard backed book: Mastering the Art of French Cooking, the classic cookbook by Julia Child. 

"Interesting," Jim said with his eyebrows raised. He passed it to Pam and then found a DVD - A Very Long Engagement, starring Audrey Tautou. 

Jim turned the DVD over to read the synopsis on the back. "Isn't she the one from Amelie?" He asked Pam. 

"Yes, she is," Pam agreed. "She also was in The DaVinci Code with Tom Hanks."

The next item was a collection of six Berthe Morisot post cards & pack of matching stickers. "Here's one for you - a woman painter. I assume she's French, thus rounding out the Three French Hens?" Jim looked so pleased with himself for seeing the connection that Pam started to laugh.

"Wow, aren't you clever?" she giggled.

He looked that the gifts now lying on the table. "Nicely done," he said to himself. 

"Did you get a stained glass ornament?" Pam asked.

Jim looked in the box. "Yep," he replied, pulling the envelope out.

The ornament today featured a trio of chickens - one white, one multiple shades of brown, one black with red markings. In each of the four corners a gold Fleur-de-lis sat. The rest of the background was made up of royal blue. 

"What are you going to do with all these ornaments?" Pam asked, admiring the latest arrival.

"I have no idea," Jim said honestly. "They're so well done it's a bit overwhelming. I'll have to find a proper way to display them."

Jim found the message card stuck in the envelope, and he held it in his closed hand. He couldn't think of a reasonable excuse to leave and read it alone, so he just turned it over in his hand.

Il n'y a pas d'autre amour mais vous. (There is no other love but you.)

He looked up at Pam, who was paging through the cookbook. He slipped the message back into the envelope, and wished he had the courage to ask her if she's the one sending these. 

Instead he picked up the DVD and began to unwrap it. "Care to spend the afternoon reading subtitles to a French film?" He asked Pam casually.

She looked up from the cookbook. "I don't think it would be a good idea. I really should get back to the office." She closed the cookbook and began to walk around him to get her coat. He closed his eyes for a moment, and again thought about his conversation with Mark. 

"I don't want you to go," he said simply. 

"People are going to notice that I was gone all day. And Karen knows I was here. I don't want to make any trouble."

"I really don't care what people think." Jim replied. "Besides, how are you going to get in trouble? I'm your boss this week. I can actually demand you stay and watch it with me, you know."

Pam smiled. "I don't think your sphere of influence stretches quite this far."

Jim shrugged. "We don't really know that, do we? Besides, I might need another application of Ben-Gay once this one wears off."

"Oh, really?" She challenged, smiling.

"Yeah. I'm just saying. I am still feeling unwell, you know."

She stared at him for a long time. He stared back, a look of insistence and hope.

"Okay," she finally said. "What the hell." 


	4. On The Fourth Day of Christmas

Pam was in the office kitchen when Jim first saw her. She looked up as he entered, and they shared a smile.

"Bon jour," Pam said, a glint in her eye.

"Bon jour," Jim laughed. 

"How's that New Year's resolution working out for you?" she asked as she poured hot water into her teapot.

"Good." he replied. "Why do you ask?"

"You're running a little late today, aren't you?"

"No, I'm not," Jim objected, checking his watch. "I think perhaps you have come in a bit earlier, hoping to confuse me."

Pam giggled. "Would I do that?"

"In a heartbeat, Beesly." Jim put his lunch in the fridge. "I bet you've been here for hours."

She picked up her teapot. "Let's just say if you want to be the first in the office you're going to have to start setting your alarm earlier, Halpert."

He raised his eyebrows. "Is that a challenge, Beesly?"

She smirked and met his gaze. "Whoever gets in here first next Tuesday has to buy the other dinner that night." 

"Does drive-thru count?" Jim grinned.

"No." She replied. "A real sit-down, eat with silverware and cloth napkins establishment."

"Of the winner's choice?"

"Naturally."

Jim narrowed his eyes, pretending to think about it. Of course he was already in. Going out to dinner was a winning proposition no matter who ended up paying. "I hope you like Greek food," he replied.

"I hope you like sushi," she grinned, walking out of the kitchen. 

Jim turned and watched her go back to her desk. He smiled, his heart buoyant over all the time he'd been spending with her. Nothing romantic came of yesterday, but once she agreed to stay for the film, she seemed to relax. It was the best time he could remember having in a long, long time. They had propped the futon back up and sat on the couch together to watch the film, taking turns reading the subtitles in bad French accents. But the movie turned out to be quite compelling, and their mocking turned to silence. The battle scenes made Pam jump, and she ended up moving next to Jim, covering her eyes at the scary or bloody scenes. At one point she grabbed his forearm, and linked her other arm through his. He put his hand over hers, and somehow they remained that way for the rest of the film. The ending was intense, and Jim first tried to hide his tears. Pam was crying too, and when she noticed his tears she didn't tease him. Instead she gave him a small smile and squeezed his hand in empathy. It was just the simplest moment, but in it he fell in love with her all over again. 

Afterwards he put in Jack Black's School of Rock to lighten the mood. She didn't seem to mind that afternoon was turning into evening. She was the one who suggested ordering in Chinese for dinner, and after taking their time through shanghai noodles and shrimp fried rice, she noticed it was nearly eight o'clock. She helped him clean up the dishes, and then surprised him by asking if he still had any soreness. When he admitted (truthfully!) that there was still a little, she offered to apply more Ben-Gay. 

"It will help you sleep better," she explained.

"If you don't mind," he told her, trying not to sound over eager.

Her expression was unreadable, but almost seemed a bit sad to him. "No, of course I don't mind," she replied. "It's the least I can do before I leave."

He sat up this time, his shirt thrown over the arm of the futon. Like before she worked in silence, slowly massaging his shoulders to his lower back. They were sitting sideways on the futon, spooned together with Pam behind him. She was close enough that he could feel the heat from her body as she rubbed his back. He closed his eyes to enjoy the sensation. She took her time, and the memory of her hands on him stayed with him as he laid in bed hours later. Just looking at her this morning brought back the feeling. For once he was glad he couldn't see her when he sat as his desk. He didn't know how he'd manage to get anything done if the option was just watching her all day.

He walked out of the kitchen as Karen was arriving. He knew he needed to try and make things right with her. He waited at her desk.

"Hey," he greeted her.

She sat down and put her purse in a drawer of her desk. "Hi," she replied, not bothering to look up at him.

"Listen, I'm sorry about yesterday. I really wasn't feeling well and I think I probably came across a bit rudely. I was happy you cared enough to stop by."

She looked up at him, her features softening slightly. "You did have a funny way of showing it."

"I know." Jim paused. "And I know we need to talk. How about I take you out for lunch today. My treat."

She was quite a moment. "LaTrattoria?" She suggested.

"If you like."

"Okay. Let's go at one o'clock."

"Great," Jim said, even though it wasn't exactly how he felt. He walked over to his desk and tried to bury himself into the piles of paperwork that awaited him. He couldn't believe it, but he was really looking forward to Michael's return. At least then half of this work wouldn't be Jim's responsibility any more.

Kevin came into work slightly late, but he was in an extremely good mood. Jim couldn't help but overhear Kevin's conversation with Pam because he was speaking so loudly. He was reminding Pam about his New Year's Eve party on Sunday. Jim heard Pam say she was definitely planning on attending. He remembered that Karen had asked him a few weeks ago about going to New York to celebrate the New Year. He hadn't given her a definite reply, but her enthusiasm did get him to agree to consider it. Now he wished he hadn't left it an option. Kevin was a friend, and Pam was going to be there. Where else would he want to be? It was just another subject he'd have to address at lunch with Karen.

At 12:45pm Karen appeared at his side. "Ready, Halpert?" She asked.

Jim looked up, slightly surprised. He had completely lost track of time. "Um, sure. Just give me a few minutes to wrap up."

"How about I just meet you downstairs?" Karen suggested. "I'll drive."

Jim nodded as she walked away. He stared at his desk for a few moments, wondering what he about to walk into. He ran his hand through his hair, and finally stood up. He grabbed his suit jacket and walked past Pam's desk to get his coat. 

He saw she was looking at him. For some reason the look on her face reminded him that today was the Fourth Day of Christmas. "I haven't had any deliveries this morning, have I?" He asked Pam.

She shook her head. "No. She makes you sign for it, remember?"

Jim felt foolish. "Yeah, right. Of course she does."

"You okay?" She asked.

No, I'm not okay, he thought. I'm tired of all of this. "Yeah, I'm fine" he said.  
"I think I'm still a bit run down from yesterday."

He watched her smile change into something more playful than concerned. "Well, if you need another therapeutic massage, you know where to find me."

"Noted," he replied. "You do come highly recommended." He finished buttoning his coat. "I'll be back in a little while."

"Okay, have fun," she said, but Jim wasn't sure she really meant it.

The ride to LaTrattoria was short and punctuated by meaningless chatter. The weather, Karen's driving, the surplus of potholes on the city streets. The restaurant was still rather busy by the time they arrived, but a table for two was quickly made available. The restaurant was slightly upscale, and Jim was glad he was wearing one of this better suits today.

It was after the meal was ordered that Karen took a sip of water and turned her full attention on Jim. "So what's going on?" she asked.

Jim shifted in his chair. "What do you mean?" 

"I'm not blind, Jim. Should I be jealous over what's going on between you and Pam?"

Jim put his hand around his water glass, the coolness distracting him from his anxiety. "We're friends, Karen."

"Just friends?"

"Yes," he replied. He tried to hold her gaze but found he couldn't. "We've been friends for a long time."

"Really," Karen said. "Then why is it you never mentioned her when we were in Stamford? You never included her in your description of the people I'd be working with in Scranton. It makes me feel like you were trying to hide something."

Jim shook his head. "There didn't seem to be much to tell you. She's not one of the crazy ones I was warning you about."

Karen sipped at her water. "If it's not Pam, then what is it? You've changed since we came here. You said you wanted to keep our relationship quiet at work and I accepted that though I didn't see how people would care. Then we started going out less. Lately I'm lucky if I can get you to agree to a Saturday night movie date."

Jim really didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry. I have more responsibility at work, more than I expected. I'm back to living closer to my family, so there's a few more obligations I have. Most nights I just want to go home and go to bed."

"And that's my other point. I thought we were really good together, the few times we actually were together. Don't you find me attractive anymore?"

"No, I mean yes," Jim stuttered. "Of course I think you're beautiful."

Jim stopped talking while the waitress brought their salads and bread. He was grateful for the interruption while he tried to come up with a response that would satisfy her. He was pretty sure he wasn't going to come up with one.

"I've just been really tired," he said, aware of how lame it sounded.

They ate their salads in silence for a while. "I want this to work between us, Jim," Karen said. "But I don't know what you want from me."

"Did you know Kevin's having a New Year's Eve party?" Jim said, ignoring her comment completely.

"Yes, of course I do," she replied, sounding a bit irritated. "He's been babbling about it all morning."

"Did you want to go?"

Karen looked up from her salad. "I thought we were going to go down to the city and watch the ball drop."

"You still want to descend into that madness?"

"Yeah, that and see some of my old college buddies. I already told you about what they had planned. I thought you were interested."

"I said I would consider it."

"Hey fine," Karen said, "If you don't want to go, then say it. I just remember you being a lot more open to the idea when I first brought it up. But if you want to go to a party at Kevin's, be my guest."

The way she said Kevin's name made Jim feel defensive. "Kevin's a friend," he said. 

Karen shrugged, then drank more water as the entrees arrived. They ate in silence, while Jim heard a cacophony of voices in his head. Mark was telling him to break up with her. His fears told him to hold on to the safety of staying with Karen. She wanted to be with him. Make the effort to connect with her. She was worth being around. His conscience told him not to string her along if his heart wasn't really in it. His heart wasn't talking to him, because it had already made itself quite clear where it stood in this matter. 

"We can go to New York," Jim heard himself say.

Karen's face lit up. "Really?"

Jim gave her a half smile. "Sure. It will be fun." Fear once again won the round.

It was well after two o'clock when Karen and Jim returned to the office. As Jim walked through the door he saw a flash of orange. Standing at the reception desk was Parma, and another white box waiting for him on the reception counter.

"Hi Parma," he said, "Hope I didn't keep you waiting long."

She gave him a smile, the first one ever. "No, not very long. Sign here."

He wrote his name on the top line. "Why am I always the top line?"

She shrugged. "Different sheets for different deliveries."

"That seems like a waste of paper."

She shrugged again. "See you tomorrow, Jim." 

Today's box was the smallest so far. Karen had witnessed the whole interaction, and when he picked the box up he heard her sigh loudly. 

"What's wrong?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"That is just stupid."

"What is?"

"This whole gift a day thing. Who the hell is it from?" Karen complained.

Pam had been watching the scene as well. "Apparently his true love," Pam replied.

"Jesus," Karen muttered, walking away to her desk. 

Jim and Pam exchanged a brief glance, and he heard Pam chuckle. He couldn't help smiling himself at Pam's reply. She had been accurate: according to the song these were from his True Love. He knew Karen wasn't his true love, and he was pretty sure she knew that too. No wonder the gifts bothered her. But despite her disapproval, Jim was drawn in. The first day it seemed like a joke, but now they started to mean something to him. True, he was still banking on these being from Pam, and that's why they meant something to him. Mark's insistence that they could only be from her helped him maintain his conviction. And he felt a slight anticipation building. Eventually they would arrive at Day Twelve - and then what? 

He turned his focus to opening his latest gift. Green tissue paper today, and inside a CD. A band he'd never heard of called Yukon Cornelius, and the title of the album was Four Colly Birds. 

Another direct hit, Jim thought. Where does she find this stuff?

He put the CD down, more interested in what personal message he'd find today. The stained glass ornament was another phenomenal work - four black birds, each on a branch that snakes across the glass. The background was comprised of reds and oranges, looking much like a sunset in the background. The message took a more poetic bend today:

If you sit alone at your window lit only by the light of the moon listen, listen carefully for my voice - I've been calling for you.

He read the message a few times before sliding it back into the envelope. He looked up as he put the items back in the box, and saw Karen staring at him, still looking a bit annoyed. Jim pushed the box to the side and wondered when life was going to get a little less complicated.

As today was the last working day of 2006, Jim worked well past his normal quitting time. By the time he'd signed and dated the last report, it was coming up to six o'clock. He looked up and realized he was the last person in the office. He pushed himself away from his desk, stretching and yawning.

"Finally done?" Pam asked, startling Jim. He turned in his chair to see her still sitting behind her desk.

"I thought everyone was gone," he replied.

"Everyone else is gone," she smiled. 

"What are you still doing hanging around here, Beesly?"

She tilted her head. "I guess I got too engrossed in sudoku."

He laughed and stood up. "Must be nice."

She grinned. "Oh, it is. I'm down to 11 minutes 33 seconds on the moderate level."

"Impressive."

Jim tapped his fingers in the counter, trying to think of something to say so he could continue to be near her. 

"What did you get today?" Pam asked.

"Oh!" Jim said, "A CD from some band called Yukon Cornelius."

"Get out - that's the guy from Rudolph!"

Jim laughed, "I know!" He grabbed the box and handed it to her. "The CD is entitled Four Colly Birds."

Pam opened the box and read the back of the CD. "You have to let me listen to this sometime," she replied. "Anyone who calls their band Yukon Cornelius has to be awesome."

"No problem. I'll burn you copy tonight."

Pam pulled out the envelope. "Can I see the ornament?"

Jim nodded and watched as she opened the envelope. As she was taking the glass piece out, the message slip fell out. Jim reached out, hoping to grab it before she noticed it, but was too late. She picked it up and read it. She looked up at Jim, but said nothing. She put the ornament and message back in the envelope, and then the CD. She handed it back to Jim. "That's really nice," she said.

Jim took the box back, her reaction to the message confusing him more than ever. She almost looked hurt when she looked at him after reading it. Part of him wished Day Twelve would get here and sort all of this out.

Pam voice brought his attention back to her. "You going to Kevin's New Year's Eve party?"

Jim shook his head. "Um, no. Actually I'm going to New York."

"With Karen?" Pam asked.

He already felt guilty going away for New Year's but somehow Pam knowing he would be with Karen made him feel worse. He knew it was stupid to feel this way, given that Pam had never given any indication that she'd want him to spend the holiday with her. But he couldn't forget that his first choice would have been to be with her.

"Ah, yeah," he said. "She has some friends we're going to go see."

Pam nodded, standing up. "That sounds nice."

She put on her coat and they walked out of the office. Neither said anything as they rode the elevator down. As they got to the parking lot, Pam turned to Jim.

"I guess I'll see you next year then," She said. She smiled, but Jim could tell it was her fake smile. Her eyes looked sad, like when she read the message.

"Yeah, I guess so." Jim said, feeling a lump in his throat. "Happy New Year, Beesly."

"Happy New Year, Jim," she replied.

Neither of them moved away, both looking at everything but each other. Jim wondered for a minute if he should hug her. Or follow Mark's advice and kiss the hell out of her. But by the time he looked up again, she was already starting to walk to her car. He watched her get in and start the engine. He shuffled to his car, and gave a slight wave as she drove past him and out of the parking lot.

Happy New Year, indeed, he thought. 


	5. On The Fifth Day of Christmas

Saturday. It was finally Saturday. Jim was beginning to develop a deep appreciation for the days he didn't need to go into the office, especially after this week of added responsibilities. As he stood his kitchen making breakfast, he decided that he would devote today to just being alone and enjoying it. Maybe waste the afternoon on video games or movies, or get around to finally emptying out those few remaining boxes he never unpacked. He just wanted today to be simple and as stress-free as possible. 

He'd barely finished his breakfast, however, when the telephone rang. It was Karen, needing to run out to the mall to pick up some things for New York. He tried to tell her he didn't feel like going to the mall, but she wasn't really listening. She told him she'd by around at eleven to pick him up.

As he hung up the phone he thought that it was just one more way she was different from Pam. For as frustratingly shy and reticent as Pam could be sometimes, he thought he preferred it to the way Karen sometimes just assumed he wasn't really serious when he went against something she said. It was never really a problem, and if he persisted she eventually back down, but he hated when she just didn't take him at his first response. Resigned to his fate and the change in his plans, Jim headed upstairs for a shower.

Karen knocked on his door exactly at eleven. She was in a wonderful mood, giving him a kiss when he'd opened the door. She offered to drive, and soon they were on their way to the Steamtown Mall, along with hundreds of other post-Christmas shoppers. Jim could hardly wait.

"I talked to Claire this morning," Karen said as they entered the mall, "and she thinks it would be best if we dressed more formally than less formally. She's trying to get us tickets to a private party a friend of hers is throwing."

"She has to get tickets to go to a friend's party?" Jim asked incredulously.

"Well, I think she meant that the friend has connections to some club that's hosting the party. She said the tickets were running about fifteen hundred dollars."

"Holy shit," Jim remarked. "That better be one hell of a party."

Karen smiled. "Oh, it would be. Who knows who we might meet? It will be fun."

Jim thought it sounded uncomfortable and a tad scary. The thought of Kevin's party, with music no doubt courtesy of Scrantonicity, seemed so much more his style, even if that style was out-dated and tacky by comparison. Jim was reminded how different Karen and he were. He tried not to compare her to Pam yet again, but it had become automatic, much like breathing. 

Jim reluctantly followed Karen through a host of stores as she tried to find an outfit to wear tomorrow night. It seemed to him that she tried on dozens of outfits, all of which looked okay to him, but none that pleased her. Over two hours later she finally decided on a black skirt that stopped above the knee and a black cashmere twin set that had tiny Swarovski crystals sewn around the collar and hem edges. It look classic with just a touch of sparkle.

Jim was starting to feel the hunger pangs for lunch as she purchased the sweater set, and was looking forward to getting out of the crowd and eating somewhere. But Karen had one more stop in mind. "I just need to stop in Victoria's Secret," she told him, giving him a wink. "I want something special to ring in the New Year."

They headed up to the second level of the mall, and when Karen invited him to help her pick out something, Jim was quick to decline. He was feeling tired and told her he'd just wait outside the store. 

"Fine," she grinned. "I'll just find something to surprise you with."

Jim nodded and walked over to the glass railing. Looking down he could see the main concourse of the first floor. The Christmas tree was still standing, of course, as were all the holiday ornaments and lights. A brass band was seated at the base of the tree, playing holiday carols though it was now closer to New Year's than Christmas Day. There were round tables set up all around that area, as people stopped to listen to the music, have a rest from the shopping, or eat their food court meals. 

Karen seemed to be taking an inordinate amount of time in the shop, so Jim decided to pass time playing a game. He called it Count the Holiday Wear. Anyone dressed predominately in red, green or something garishly holiday-like would be counted. He estimated he'd probably reach one hundred easily. He started by counting the number of qualifying people he could see sitting at the tables. He ruled out the brass band because they were not dressed like that voluntarily. At least he hoped they weren't.

He was already at thirty when he'd counted people seated in the left half of the seating area. He was at forty three-quarters of the way across, and still counting. Number forty-four was a woman seated alone, and as soon as he counted her he thought there was something vaguely familiar about her. Her brownish hair was in ponytail, and she was wearing a green sweatshirt. She seemed to be writing in a big book. He watched her for a little while, and soon corrected himself. She was not writing, she was drawing. It was Pam. 

He watched her as she watched those around her, pausing every now and then to put something down in her book. He tried to see what she was drawing, but he was too far away. He wanted so much to go down and talk to her, spend the afternoon watching her capture the scenes around them. He pictured himself holding her different colored pencils, presenting colors as she requested in his role as assistant. They'd observe old people and little babies, and Pam would capture the best of them. Instead he was stuck where he was, cut off from her literally and figuratively. When Karen finally walked out of the shop with a pink and black gift bag, Jim was feeling a bit depressed.

"I think you'll appreciate what I just purchased," Karen said, smiling up at him.

He tried to smile, but it felt more like a grimace. He nodded, and not trusting himself to give an appropriate answer, he said nothing.

Karen suggested they head to Cuggino's for lunch, but Jim said that he had a headache, and asked if they could just pick up some sandwiches to bring back to his house. He was hoping that once he was home he'd feel a bit better. 

Eating certainly improved Jim's mood, and by the time they were done eating Karen's enthusiasm for tomorrow was starting to wear off on him. Maybe they would have a good time. Maybe he needed to get out of Scranton for the night. A new place to ring in the new year might be just want he needed. They were still talking about their plans when Karen's cell phone rang. It was Claire, her friend from New York.

Jim put their dishes in the sink and headed upstairs to use the bathroom and give her some privacy while she was on the phone. He was on his way back downstairs when the front doorbell rang. 

He smiled when he saw Parma standing on his doorstep. "You again?" he said teasingly, reaching for her clipboard. "Don't you get tired of stalking me?"

"Not really," Parma replied, unable to resist a smile. "You are one of the cuter ones on my delivery route."

Jim felt himself blush at her unexpected compliment. "Hey, tell me something," he said, "Who's sending me these things?"

She handed him two things today, and then tilted her head to looked at him for a minute. "You should know that I can't disclose the names of my clients," she finally said. "and I would be very surprised to hear that you don't already know the answer to that question. Enjoy the rest of today, Jim."

She was all the way down the walk and getting into her car when he realized that she'd finally called him by his first name, and not Mr. Halpert. He watched her drive off, thinking about what she said. Was it the truth or had she given him a clue? 

Jim closed the front door, and could hear Karen still on her phone. He looked at what Parma had given him. The larger was a white heavy mailing tube, the kind you ship posters or blueprints in. The second was a flat white mailer, the type you'd use to mail CDs in. He contemplated opening them immediately, but decided to wait until Karen had gone. He set them down on the stairs and headed down the hall and into the living room to wait out Karen's call. 

When Karen finally ended her conversation with Claire, she walked into the living room. "Hey, guess what?"

"Hmm?" Jim looked up from his comfortable position on the couch.

"Claire wants us to drive down tonight. She can get us free parking in her apartment's deck and got a tip on a party that's going to be attended by some of the Saturday Night Live cast after their show! It's going to be awesome!"

Karen walked out of the living room and Jim stood up to follow her. Spending two nights in New York wasn't exactly his plan and he didn't know what to say. She seemed so excited about it, so he was hesitant to take that away. His anxiety about being pulled further along in the wrong direction feels like a lead weight in his stomach, and without prompting he remembers watching Pam sitting in the mall concourse today. The feeling he had watching her was the way he always wanted to feel around the person he loved, the person he wanted to be with. And that wasn't at all what he was feeling right now.

Karen picked up her purse and leaned in to him, giving him a quick kiss. "I'm going to go home and pack everything up." She started walking toward the front door while she continued to talk. "How about I come back in about an hour? Will that give you enough time to get ready?"

He thought of the packages that had just arrived, and thought that if he went to New York he'd miss tomorrow's delivery, and probably Monday's too. He thought about what Parma said, and again came back to the vision of Pam sketching in the Mall. He thought of what he really needed to do.

"Karen, wait... I can't do this."

She stopped in the hallway. "What? I'm sorry, did you have something else planned for tonight?"

"No. I mean, I'm not talking about tonight. I'm talking about everything. About us. I can't do this anymore."

Her face froze in concern. "Jim, what are you talking about?"

"I'm sorry, Karen." Jim said simply, looking down at his hands. "I'm really, really sorry." He didn't even know where to begin, but there was no going back. He needed to loosen this ever-tightening noose around his neck; he needed to make things right.

"You're breaking up with me, aren't you?" Karen asked softly. "If you really don't want to go to the city for New Year's we don't have to."

"This has nothing to do with our New Year's Eve plans," he replied, running his hand nervously through his hair. He walked into the kitchen and leaned against the counter, unsure of where to start. Karen followed him and sat down at the kitchen table. "I'm aware that I've been very unfair to you," he continued. "You have been so good to me and I've not done much for you in return. Karen, you're too good a person..."

"Stop." Karen said forcefully. "God, Jim, please don't go there. I don't need trite compliments or apologies. Just tell me the damn truth."

Jim looked up to the ceiling. "I don't even know where to start," he said truthfully. "I just know this is never going to work out the way you want it to. I can't be what you want me to be."

"And how do you know what I want you to be?"

"I know at the very least you want us to be more than friends."

"And that's what I thought you wanted as well."

Jim sighed. "I had hoped I would be able to. But I can't."

"Why not?"

He bit his lip, trying to find the right words, but there were none. "I would rather not talk about it."

"Not talk about it?" Karen was visibly angry. "Don't you think I deserve a better explanation than just 'I can't'?"

The irony was not lost on Jim. He hadn't intended to say those exact words, they just slipped out. And now Karen was asking the question he should have bothered asking Pam all those months ago.

"Yes, you do." Jim nodded.

Karen stared at him, waiting for him to continue. Jim stood there, still silent while the seconds ticked by on his kitchen clock. "Well?" She prompted.

"It's complicated."

More silence. "We're back to Pam, aren't we?" She finally said.

Jim's head jerked up, meeting her glance. He knew his expression told her everything.

"Please," Karen said, a little more kindly. "I want to know why I'm losing you"  
He felt his heart ache slightly at her words. He knew Karen cared for him, and now he had to face that he was going to be source of making her unhappy. He had never wanted that. He knew she deserved the whole sordid truth. She had deserved that at the beginning. Maybe if he hadn't been so delusional she would have seen that she never had a chance and just moved on. Instead he clung to her in the hope that he could move on, and now that he knew he couldn't he was leaving her to fend for herself. He knew he'd been a complete ass. 

"This isn't easy for me to say," he started, clearing his throat. "I left Scranton last May because of Pam. I was in love with her and she was going to marry someone else. She was going to marry Roy, actually."

"Roy?" Karen sounded shocked. "Why didn't she?"

Jim grimaced. "Ask her yourself. To this day I still am not quite sure why she didn't. She's never told me."

"So now you're back, she's single, and you realize you still want to get with her?"

"It's not quite that simple, but I guess that's fairly accurate." He looked up at Karen, feeling quite ashamed of his treatment of her. "But I didn't start dating you with any of that in the back of my mind. I swear I thought I could put her behind me. That I had put her behind me."

"How long have you been in love with her?" Karen asked, ignoring his apologies.

"I'm not sure anymore. Three, four years maybe?"

"God, Jim. I really wish I would have known before moving to Scranton."

Jim nodded. "I know. I hope you can forgive me someday for screwing your life up like this. I mean, Scranton of all places?" He tried to laugh but it came out more like a choking sound.

Karen stood up. "Does she know how you feel?"

Jim put his hands up. "I don't know what she knows. I told her in May how I felt, and when she turned me down I immediately moved to Stamford."

"And you haven't had a conversation about this since you've been back?"

Jim shook his head. "How could I? Where would I even start? 'Hey, I'm dating someone else because I want to be over you but I don't think I am so if you are maybe interested let me know and I'll drop the other girl?' Even I'm not that selfish, despite what you must think right now."

Karen took a step toward him, and put her hand briefly on his arm. "Well, you no longer are seeing anyone else now. You need to talk to her."

"And get rejected again?" he said aloud.

Karen shrugged. "You'll survive if it happens. But I've seen her stare at you at work. I should have put two and two together ages ago. Maybe I did and I just didn't want to believe it."

Jim looked into her eyes, and it hurt so much to see her eyes glassy with unshed tears. "I think the world of you Karen, I really do," he said.

She put her hand up to stop him. "No, not right now. I can only be so magnanimous, and I think it's just about used up." She looked up at him briefly, then looked away. "I get the right to be upset about this and mad at you. Because basically you've been a real jerk." There was a catch in her breath and Jim knew she was about to cry. He felt helpless that there was nothing he could do to help her.

"You go to your New Year's Eve party at Kevin's, and you make things work with Pam. I'm not leaving Scranton as easily as you did, but please don't talk to me for a while, okay?" She walked out of the kitchen and down the hallway. Jim followed slowly behind, feeling completely gutted.

"Oh," Karen said as she got to the door. "And please tell Pam one thing for me, okay?"

"Sure," Jim said, "anything."

"Tell her that I hold her blameless in all of this. I don't think I could bear to lose her friendship as well. Tell her I still want her around."

Jim nodded. "I will."

Karen walked out, pulling the door shut behind her. Jim leaned against the wall in the hallway, his hands balled into his pockets, slowly tapping the back of his head against the wall. He let the anxiety and pain and frustration drain out of his body with every tap. Karen couldn't know how sorry he was over how things had turned out, but he felt some of the weight lifting from his shoulders now that he'd faced her and told her the truth. It took him a little while to fully understand that this meant he was free to pursue Pam. And that Pam was free, too. This was the best position the two of them had ever been in to try and make things work, and Jim wasn't sure he quite fully believed it. Maybe he'd believe it tomorrow, after a few drinks at Kevin's party. Suddenly the world was seeming a bit brighter.

He remembered the packages waiting for him on the stairs. He locked his front door, grabbed the boxes and headed up to his bedroom. He felt like a teenager when he bounded into his room and closed the door behind him. He was the only one in the house, but he just craved the privacy after the emotional upheaval just minutes ago.

He decided to open the tube first. A rolled piece of stiff gloss paper fell out, and as he unrolled it on his bed a gold vision of Saturn came into view. It was a print of a NASA photograph entitled Golden Night on Saturn, with the planet, its rings and the shadows forming images of geometric shapes. It was stunning, and Jim already could see himself buying a frame and hanging it in his bedroom. It was a perfect example of science and art colliding.

He moved to the other package, and as expected it contained the stained glass ornament and message. The stained glass featured five rings of a deep yellow color fanned out in the center of the ornament, much like a peacock would display his feathers. The background was a deep shade of indigo, and he noticed that some of the glass reflected what looked a bit like gold dust. The writing at the top of the ornament reminded him that it was indeed the The Fifth Day of Christmas. 

He reached for the message, as always saving the best for last. 

What you mean to me cannot be expressed with earthly things. And like the moon, or Saturn's rings, I will never wander far from my orbit around you.

He laid back on his pillow, reading the message over again. He smiled, liking the interpretation of five gold rings very much. This is so Pam, he thought. How can it be anyone else? He decided that instead of taking a risk and confronting her with his suspicions, he'd work harder to find proof it was her. Then he'd watch her try to deny it. He looked forward to that blush he knew would appear on her cheeks, and the smile that would belie her denial. Most of all, he imagined the kiss that would result when she'd finally admitted to it. There was no other possible scenario that was willing to accept.

He thought about calling Pam, seeing if she was free tonight. He had his phone in his hand, debating whether or not to call, when he decided to wait. Let him surprise her tomorrow by showing up at Kevin's party. She had actually seemed unhappy when he said on Friday that he wasn't going. Maybe she would be happy to see him, and her delight would give him a bit more courage.

He sat up and dialed Mark instead. Even if he had plans with Anna tonight, he knew Mark deserved to hear the news that Jim had broken up with Karen. After all, he had been the swift kick Jim needed to set things in motion. 


	6. On The Sixth Day of Christmas

Jim glanced up at the clock as he stepped out of the shower. It was a few minutes past six-thirty already. Kevin's party was starting officially at seven, but he bet Kevin had already tapped the keg at least an hour ago. Jim wandered into his bedroom, feeling unhurried as he wanted to arrive at the party a little late. He wanted Pam to already be there when he made his entrance. He was a little nervous at the thought of how tonight might unfold. A little nervous, and a little hopeful.

He stared at the contents of his closet yet again. He couldn't decide what to wear, and berated himself for acting like a teenage girl. First he had pulled out a shirt and tie, but he thought that was too boring. He looked through his sweaters, stopping when he reached his favorite black one, but decided against it because that was The Sweater, the one he wore when Pam told him "I can't." Call him superstitious, but it didn't seem like a good outfit to try and approach her again in. He found the Hooters t-shirt Michael had bought him last year, and smiled at the thought of Pam's reaction if he showed up in that.

In irritation he sat down on his bed, towel still wrapped around his waist. He rested his hand on the bedspread, mindlessly stroking the material as he tried to decide what to wear. He wondered why the comforter felt so stiff and scratchy, until he remembered that it was new.

New as in today. New as in being his Sixth Day of Christmas gift. Parma had knocked late morning, bearing the latest gift for him. She was really starting to grow on him, and he had asked her in for coffee. 

"No, thank you," Parma replied, "But maybe some other time."

"Happy New Year, Parma," Jim called as she walked back to her car.

"Same to you, Jim," she said. She had given him a little wave as she pulled out of his drive.

The box was the biggest he'd received to date, and it felt heavy. He opened it right in the hallway, stunned to pull out a queen-sized feather down white comforter, and after that, a beautiful batik designed comforter cover. It was not something Jim could ever imagine choosing for himself, but he loved it immediately. It was a kaleidoscope of colors - shades of blue, purple, green and red all mixing and flowing through each other, sort of like tie-dye. The clouds of color reminded him of photos of the universe the Hubble telescope had taken in recent years. He wondered if its sender - his True Love, that is - had thought the same thing when selecting it. In addition, because it was batik, a pattern had been painted on top of the colors. It was a grid-like ghosting of lines and circles, little sunbursts and tiny dots. He decided to put it on his bed immediately. He idly wondered about the possibility of Pam seeing it soon, maybe even later tonight. He grinned and felt pretty sure the odds were low. Still, he couldn't completely rule out the idea that someday she would.

He'd brought the now expected envelope upstairs with him when he put the comforter on his bed. It was still sitting on his night table, and he reached for it to take another look. A single long-necked white goose, standing in profile was the in center of the scene. Warm yellow and tan glass slivers looked realistically like scattered bits of hay at its feet, while milky white and spotted brown glass ovals formed six eggs lying in the hay. The background was a mix of green and teal. 

And the message. Jim ran his thumb over the bottom edge of the paper, reading the words again:

To be your comfort against the world is all I ask of you.

So short and yet so touching. He ran his hand over the comforter again, and had never wished a week away faster as much as he wished this coming one. January 6th was circled in red in his mind, though he had no idea what to expect of it all.

He put the ornament and the message back on his night stand and tried to focus on his wardrobe. He took off his towel, running it over his body to make certain he was dry. He pulled on underwear and his jeans. Those two were a given. He saw his old black converse high tops lying in the back corner of his closet and put those on. Good, he thought. At least I'm ready from the waist down. 

He pulled out the most likely possibilities from his closet and threw them on the bed. He knew that Kevin had refinished his basement, and that's where most of the people would be gathering. He expected that it would probably end up pretty warm down there, so he ruled out wearing a sweater. All his ties were bland and work-oriented, so he gave up on the shirt and tie combo. He finally decided on the black and grey rugby shirt his mother had just given him for Christmas. It was a heavier than a t-shirt but lighter than a sweater. It had a half-zipper running up to the mock turtleneck, and most importantly, it matched his high tops. He put on a black t-shirt and then the rugby shirt, and he was ready to go. Before he walked out of his bedroom he swore he'd never spend that much time on clothing ever again.

It was nearly seven-thirty by the time Jim drove onto Kevin's street. The line of cars parked along the curbs indicated that the party was already in full swing. He was relieved when he spotted Pam's little blue car, and parked his car not far from hers.

He walked along the sidewalk, the darkness lit up by holiday lights on the neighbor's trees and houses. As he approached Kevin's, he could already hear fragments of music. He wondered if it was the band or just CDs at this point. Once at the door, he took a deep breath, and hoped the night wouldn't be a total disaster.

He walked in, faced with a group of people he didn't know. He pasted on a smile and politely said hello to the people who looked his way, desperately looking for a friendly face. When he reached the kitchen he saw Stacey, Kevin's fiancee. 

"Hey, Stacey," Jim said, feeling relieved that he really was at the right party.

"Jim! Kevin said you weren't coming tonight." she replied. "Good to see you."

"Thanks, you too." 

"Let me take your coat," she offered. "Kevin's downstairs with his band, and I think most of your co-workers migrated down there as well."

He gave her his coat and thanked her again. The door to the basement was off of the kitchen, so he started down the steps to join the others. He walked down slowly, taking in the whole scene. Kevin had clearly spent a lot of money upgrading his basement. A hardwood bar took up one wall of the basement, while the other side had a small raised stage, Kevin's drums taking up most of it. There were couches along the back wall, and small folding tables with chairs in the middle of the room. A flat screen television hung from the wall opposite the couches. It was the ideal party room for New Year's Eve. He continued down the steps trying to get a fix on where everyone was. Well, primarily where Pam was. There had to be at least twenty people milling around, and yet he picked her out easily. She was standing near the makeshift stage, holding a long neck beer bottle and listening to Kevin and some unknown guy talk. 

He stood on the bottom step so he could watch her for a moment. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and it looked like she'd put some ribbon in it. She was dressed in a dark pink v-necked sweater, and from where he was standing it looked like one of those really soft, chenille sweaters. It definitely made her look touchable. He saw Kevin walk away while the other guy stayed talking to Pam. While he couldn't be sure at this point, the expression on her face told him that the guy was most certainly not her date. He thought he might earn some points with her if he headed over and rescued her. On his way across the room he ran into Kevin.

"Dude, I thought you were heading for New York City tonight," Kevin grinned. "Glad to see you changed your mind."

"Well, New York will always be there. How often do I get to hear Scrantonicity play live?"

"You know it, baby!" Kevin replied enthusiastically. "Hey, the bar is behind you, so don't forget to stop there. I've got to go check in with Stacey."

Jim nodded and continued in the direction of Pam. He was about ten feet away when he saw her look over at him. Her eyes grew wide in recognition and she gave him a smile that made his heart skip a beat. She said something to the guy still talking to her and then rushed up to Jim.

"Hey you," she said.

"Hey," Jim smiled.

"I thought you had other plans for tonight,"

"I did, but things...changed."

"Oh," Pam replied. "Is Karen with you?"

Jim's eyes remained on hers. "No, Karen's not with me."

"Oh," Pam said again. 

"We broke up yesterday," Jim told her, trying to watch for a reaction.

She reached out and touched his arm. "Are you okay?"

He nodded. "Yeah, it's okay." He jerked his head back. "Do you want to go get a drink with me?"

She smiled and nodded and they worked their way to the bar. "Can you believe Kevin put an actual bar in his basement?" Pam said to Jim as they sat down on bar stools.

"This surprises you?" Jim laughed.

A man they were unfamiliar with was playing bartender and brought them both beers. Pam finished off the one she was holding and reached for the new one in quick fashion.

"Planning on getting drunk tonight, Beesly?" Jim asked.

"Haven't decided yet," she replied, looking at her beer bottle. "Hey, I need to ask a favor of you"  
"Oh?" Jim replied. "What sort of favor?"

"I need you to be my date tonight." She glanced up at him, then back down at her beer.

Jim leaned closer to her. "Your date? Is that what you said?"

"Yeah," she replied, looking back up at him. He could see a combination of shyness and defiance in her eyes, and it amused him to no end. He had planned on acting like her date anyway, so her request just made it even better. "Kevin's been introducing me to his single friends since I got here, and I really would like some defense against that." She took a big swig of her beer. "If you wouldn't mind," she added.

Jim took a minute, pretending to mull the idea over. He drank some beer, and rubbed his hand against his jaw. "Hmm...be your date. That's a tough one, Beesly."

She sighed. "Forget it."

"No, no," Jim replied. "I think I can manage to help you out."

"Gee thanks," she replied. "I wouldn't want to put you out." 

"But what's in it for me?"

Pam raised her eyebrows. "What do you want? I would think being seen with me on your arm would be compensation enough."

Jim grinned. "You have a point. But how about some small reward for a job well done?"

Pam grinned back. "Assuming you do a good job, what do you have in mind?"

If he didn't know better he would swear she was flirting with him. Jim finished the rest of his beer quickly, hoping for a bit of courage from the bottle. "How about a kiss?" he asked softly, leaning in so no one else could hear. 

Pam bit her lip, which made Jim just want to kiss her then and there. "I guess that would be fair," she said slowly. "You can kiss me at midnight if you like."

Jim offered his hand. "Deal?"

Pam put her hand into his. "Deal."

Neither moved their hand away until Kevin came up behind them, startling them. "Shots, anyone?" he said loudly.

"Sure," Pam replied.

"I'll have two," Jim said.

"Bar keep!" Kevin slapped his hand against the bar. "Three - no, four - snakebites over here!"

Jim and Pam exchanged a smile. It was clear Kevin had been downing shots fairly regularly since the start of the party. 

"Snakebite?" Pam asked

"Jack Daniels, Tequila, a touch of hot sauce..." Kevin smiled.

Pam make a face. "Maybe I could just have the tequila?" she asked hopefully.

"Aw, come on, Pam," Kevin chided. "It's New Year's Eve. Ya gotta."

She looked at Jim. "I'm going to defer to Kevin on this one," he smirked. "It is his party."

"Fine," she sighed. "But give me a margarita to go with it."

"Wow, Beesly," Jim said. "You really are mixing it up tonight, aren't you?"

"You're having two shots\," she replied, an accusing look on her face.

"I got here late," he explained. "I'm just trying to catch up." Truth was, Jim was just trying to take the edge off the fact that all he could think about was the fact he was going to kiss Pam at midnight. Somehow knowing it was now a given was more nerve wracking than sitting there wondering if he'd get the chance.

The shots were lined up, and on a count of three, they slung them back. Jim enjoyed Pam's visible shudder of distaste. Kevin didn't even look phased. Jim downed his second one, feeling the fire down into his stomach. He smiled at Pam, then took a drink from his beer.

"Okay, the band's going to start up again in few minutes," Kevin told them, then walked away.

"Again?" Jim asked Pam.

"Oh yeah," Pam nodded. "They kicked the party off with a blazing rendition of Soft Cell's 'Tainted Love'."

"Sorry I missed that."

"I expect we'll hear it again. They seemed to enjoy playing it."

"Great," Jim grinned. "I wonder how long we'll have to wait for 'Don't Stand So Close to Me'."

"Probably not long enough," Pam replied, causing Jim to chuckle.

Pam requested her margarita just as Jim noticed Meredith walking over to the bar.

"Hey guys," she said cheerily. "This is Bart. He's my mailman."

Jim and Pam nodded toward a dark haired man with his arm around Meredith's waist.  
Meredith came closer and stood between Pam and Jim's stools. She put her arms around them, and Jim could already smell alcohol. "I just want to say that I think it's great you guys are finally coming out in the open."

"What do you mean?" Pam asked, looking puzzled.

Meredith smiled. "You don't have to pretend around me. I know you guys have been together for a while now. I just can tell these things."

Jim looked over at Pam, and nodded slightly. "Well, we appreciate your discretion. We really weren't planning on making it public knowledge."

"That's okay," Meredith replied. "But I'm sure more people know than you realize." She leaned in closer. "Hey, have you guys done it in the stairwell yet? Because I find that if you go all the way down to the lowest level, the sound doesn't carry as far."

Jim put his hand to his mouth to prevent the laughter from spilling out. He didn't know what was funnier, Meredith's question or the look on Pam's face because of Meredith's question. "Thanks, we'll keep that in mind," he managed to choke out. 

Meredith smiled and pick up her new drink. Then she and Bart the mailman wandered off. Pam watched them walk away, then took a long sip of her margarita. "What the hell was that?" She asked Jim.

"I couldn't begin to tell you," he laughed.

Pam had a curious look on her face. "She thought we were, um, dating or something."

"Or something," Jim laughed. "I don't want to know how she knows about the stairwell acoustics."

Pam giggled as she sipped her margarita again. "I wish my life was as exciting as she seems to think it is."

Jim thought that Pam didn't seem that bothered that Meredith had assumed they were a couple. That was new; usually she became defensive over a comment like that. He took that a good omen. 

"Speaking of dating," Jim began, "exactly what sort of dating couple are we supposed to be tonight?"

"Hey, one of the couches is empty!" Pam said. "Let's go grab it before the band starts." Pam ordered another margarita, and slid off the stool, standing close to Jim. "What were you saying?"

Jim laughed. "I'll tell you when we get to the couch." She still had about half of her first margarita left, and was nursing it while she waited for the new one. Jim saw her eyeing the empty couch. "Go on," he told her. "I'll bring your drink." 

"Cool," she grinned. "Thanks. Met you there." She bumped against him as she left, and Jim wondered if her playfulness was alcohol fueled. He had to admit those shots he had already were mellowing him out, and he added another beer to the bar order. 

Pam flashed him a big smile when he finally approached her with their drinks. The couch she'd claimed was actually more of a love seat, with room for only the two of them. He set the drinks on a nearby folding table. "Happy here?" Jim asked.

"Yes, it's perfect. We are in the right place to watch the band, and catch the tv at midnight."

Jim sat down next to her. "Well, they say location is everything."

Pam finished her first margarita and put the glass on the table. She turned toward Jim, her hands clasped together in her lap. "Now what were you asking at the bar?"

Jim reached for his beer. "I was just wondering about this date arrangement," he began, taking a drink. "which date is this for us?"

Pam tilted her head. "Hmm...that's a good question." 

"Is this a first date situation where I'm supposed be nervous and not know where to put my hands?" Jim asked, "or have we been dating for a while and are starting to take each other for granted?"

Pam giggled, and Jim thought it was perhaps the best sound in the world. "Isn't there some sort of happy medium we could go with?" Pam asked.

"Hmm..." Jim replied. "Well, we could be on our fifth or sixth date, where we kinda know each other pretty well, but still have that anxious, hoping-to-please facet to our relationship."

"Ooh, I like that one," Pam said enthusiastically. 

Jim couldn't believe how tonight was unfolding. "In that case I think you need to sit a little closer to me," he said.

Pam practically bounced next to him. "Like this?"

"Yeah, that will do," he grinned. "I should probably put my arm around you."

She nodded. "But of course." 

Jim immediately did so, and felt a warmth that had nothing to do with drinking. "Is that okay?" he asked. 

She looked up and smiled. "Perfect." He felt her move even closer to him, and thought if he could just manage to stay like this for the rest of the night he'd call it a success. They watched as Kevin and his band mates started tuning up the instruments for another session, and noticed that Ryan and Kelly had just made their entrance to the party. Kelly saw them first, and whispered something to Ryan. Then they both headed over to where Pam and Jim were sitting.

"Hey guys," Kelly shouted. "Happy New Year!"

"Kel, we've still got nearly three hours before the new year," Ryan said. 

Kelly pulled up a folding chair and sat down across from Pam. "How's everything going tonight? Pam you look adorable in that pink sweater - where did you get that? I just have to borrow that some time."

Jim took the opportunity to brush his fingers against her shoulder. Her sweater was a soft as he'd expected. He couldn't help but wonder how soft her skin underneath the sweater was. He was brought back to the conversation when he realized Ryan was talking to him.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" Jim asked.

"Those boxes," Ryan replied. "Are you still getting them?"

"Oh my God, yeah!" Kelly interrupted. "Ryan told me about those. Isn't that completely romantic? I would just die if someone did that for me."

Jim shook his head. "Oh yeah, actually I am. Today was the sixth day."

"And you still don't know who they're from?" Ryan seemed amazed by that fact.

Jim shook his head. "I expect I'll find out sometime soon."

"Yeah, but what if it's from someone you have absolutely no interest in?" 

Jim bit his lip to suppress a smile. Ryan seemed so concerned about it all. Jim finally shrugged. "I guess I'll just have to hope it doesn't go that way."

"What did you get today?" Pam asked. "Or yesterday for that matter?"

Jim thought for a moment. The alcohol was starting to fog his short-term memory already. "Um, today I got this completely awesome down comforter with a multi-colored cover and sort of celestial patterns on it. Oh, and yesterday I got a poster of Saturn."

"A poster of Saturn?" Kelly asked. "What day was that for?"

"The fifth day. Five golden rings, get it?" Ryan answered.

"Oooh," Kelly replied. "I would think actual gold rings would have worked better."

"Well, I liked it," Jim replied. 

Further conversation was cut off as Scrantonicity started up their second set. Pam turned slightly toward the stage, which put her back resting up against Jim's chest. He kept his arm around her shoulder, and noticed Ryan giving him an odd look because of it. Jim chose to ignore it and worked on finishing his beer. 

The band opened with Spirits in the Material World, and followed directly into an extended version of Roxanne. When they next did De Do Do Do, De Da Da Da, Ryan stood up to go to the bar, and Jim indicated he and Pam definitely needed refills. It wasn't that the band was all that bad, because it wasn't. But the guys were almost humorously sincere in their renditions, and it was clear that Kevin was living out his fantasies up there drumming and singing.

When Ryan returned with beers and margaritas, Jim and Pam exchanged a look of gratitude and sat back to continue drinking. The music wasn't deafening, but it was certainly too loud to have any sort of conversation. 

Jim leaned forward to speak in her ear. "Having fun yet?"

Pam turned her head so he could hear her reply. "Yes, actually. Trust me, I've had much worse New Year's Eves." 

Jim wondered if she was referring to times spent with Roy. He knew enough from years of hearing Pam complain about Roy's drinking that New Year's Eve with Roy probably meant she spent the last half of it alone. He rubbed her shoulder. "So I don't make a bad date?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Not at all." She smiled and leaned back against him, and that was more than enough for Jim. He drank his beer, and felt really content for the first time in a long while.

Jim wasn't quite sure where the time went, but soon it was after eleven, and the flat screen television was turned on to catch the Times Square countdown. Ryan Seacrest shared hosting duties with a remarkably recovered Dick Clark, and most of the people in the basement had grabbed a chair to watch the show. Jim saw Phyllis and Bob come down the stairs, and gave them a wave. Phyllis smiled when she saw Pam and Jim sitting snuggled together. 

"Don't tell me you guys are just getting here?" Jim asked as Phyllis and Bob found chairs nearby.

"We had to spend some time with Bob's family," Phyllis explained. "We got here just as soon as we could. I'm glad we didn't miss the countdown."

Jim nodded and Phyllis continued. "You two look like you are having a good time."

Jim looked over at Pam, who seemed engrossed in watching Christina Aguilera. She had that serious, intense look on her face, which told Jim she'd just about reached her margarita limit. He smiled back at Phyllis. "Yeah, it's been a good night."

"I'm glad." Phyllis nodded toward Pam. "I can tell she's not going to be driving, but how much have you had so far?"

Jim knew Phyllis had always been a real stickler for not drinking and driving. "I have to say that we will probably have to call a cab when this is all over."

Phyllis shook her head. "Don't bother. Bob and I can take you guys home. He's driving the van and he hasn't had anything but Coke all night." 

Jim thanked her as she got up to get Bob a Coke from the bar. When she returned, Pam noticed her.  
"Hey, Phyllis!" she smiled. "It's good to see you!"

Jim and Phyllis exchanged smiles. "What?" Pam asked him.

"Nothing," he replied. He watched as Phyllis and Bob walked over to another group of people they knew. "Beesly," he asked, "are you drunk?"

She rested her head back against his shoulder. "Yeah, a little," she admitted. "Is that going to nullify our date agreement?"

"No," he replied, surprised at her comment. "Why would it?"

"I just didn't know if you were worried that I'd embarrass you being drunk. Which is to say that I'm not really that drunk, and I don't think I'm going to have any more anyway."

He smiled. "You won't embarrass me. And I think I'd better stay your date for the rest of the night so I can make sure you get home safely."

"That's very kind of you, Jim. Maybe you can have two kisses for doing that."

"It's all part of the service, Beesly."

"Maybe I should consider hiring you more often then."

"Maybe you should."

They were distracted by the sight of the ball in Times Square lighting up and starting its fall. "Ooh, two minutes left!" Pam said excitedly, sitting up on the edge of the love seat. People in the chairs in front of them had stood up in anticipation, so Pam stood up to see the screen better. Jim soon joined her, and before they knew it they were counting down the final seconds.

"Happy New Year!" Everyone shouted.

Pam turned to Jim and threw her arms around his neck in a big hug. "Happy New Year, Jim," she said, pulling back to look at him. 

"Happy New Year, Pam," he replied, feeling a little choked up that he was exactly where he wanted to be.

They looked at each other for a moment, and Jim was unsure if he should just go ahead and kiss her.  
"You want that kiss now?" Pam asked, as if she were reading his mind.

He smiled slightly and leaned down, her lips meeting his halfway. He felt her hands on his shoulders pulling him to her, and he put his arms around her waist. It was a soft, closed mouth kiss, but when he started to pull back he felt her mouth open slightly and her tongue tentatively brush against his lower lip. It surprised him so much he pulled away, but she pushed herself up on tiptoes to kiss him again and this time he opened his mouth to hers. It was relatively brief as kisses go, but it was heavy with implication. When they finally stepped back, Jim wasn't quite sure what to say.

"Happy New Year," Pam said softly.

"Yes, you've said that," Jim noted. "Happy New Year to you as well." He sat back down on the love seat and Pam followed. Several people were passing out flutes of champagne and both Jim and Pam took them. 

Pam clinked her plastic flute against his. "I hope 2007 treats us better than 2006 did," she said.

"Me, too," he said. 

"And to us never being apart like that again," she added before drinking down the bubbly liquid.

"Okay," Jim replied. "I will drink to that."

The guests were starting to leave en masse shortly after the new year arrived, and about an hour later Phyllis came over to see if they still wanted a ride home. With Pam starting to look drowsy, Jim took them up on their offer. 

"Ready to go home, Beesly?" He asked her. She been leaning against his shoulder, not asleep, but certainly no longer the life of the party.

She sat up. "Yeah, I think it's about that time."

They found Kevin messing around with his drums and thanked him for the party. Jim held Pam's hand as they made their way up the steps, pointing out it was the easiest way for her not to embarrass him by falling down the steps. He made sure they had their coats, and that Pam had her purse, and then they got into Bob's van. There were a few other people getting rides home as well, and Pam squeezed up against Jim to make room for the fellow passengers. 

Jim's house was one of the first stops, and as Jim made his way out of the van, Pam followed. "I'm just going to crash here tonight, Bob," Pam said. "Thanks for the ride!" Then she slammed the door shut and Bob drove away. Jim stood in his drive staring at her, wondering who upstairs liked him enough to cause this to happen.

She looked up at Jim. "It is okay if I just stay here, isn't it?" She asked.

Jim just shook his head. "C'mon Beesly, it's cold out here." He put his arm around her and lead her up the drive and into the house. 

Once inside, Jim was torn about what to do. He should do the polite thing and sleep downstairs, but he was tired of always doing the right thing. He ended up having the decision taken out of hands for the meantime when Pam started up the stairs telling him that she wanted to see his new comforter.

Pam pushed open the door to his bedroom and found the light switch. "Oh my God, it's gorgeous!" She said, immediately sitting down on his bed to feel it. "I really didn't think it was going to be this nice."

"Why not?" Jim asked, finding her comment a little odd.

"Well, I mean," she paused. "Um, you didn't really describe it very well, I wasn't sure what to expect."

Her stumbling answer amused Jim, and he wondered if she'd just caught herself moments from revealing herself as the sender. Or perhaps she was just drunk. But he liked the first possibility better.

He reminded her where the bathroom was, and brought some towels to her from the linen closet. She was taking off her shoes and socks when she asked to borrow something to wear to bed. He found one of his old college sweatshirts that hung long enough to be a dress and gave it to her. She seemed to be walking relatively normally so he let her go off to the bathroom unassisted. When she came back in just the sweatshirt Jim tried not to look at her. He was pretty sure his ability to remain a gentleman was running pretty low, and I didn't want to do anything he or she would regret tomorrow.

He pulled out some pajamas for himself, looking fairly new as usually he didn't bother with them. "I'm going to sleep downstairs," he said, "but you can call me if you need anything."

He'd barely turned around when Pam's voice stopped him. "No you're not," she said, sounding irritated.

"I'm sorry?"

"You heard me, Halpert," she said, fighting off a yawn. "We're grown-ups here. This bed is more than big enough for the two of us." She grinned. "Besides, don't I owe you one more kiss?"

"Okay," Jim replied, seriously dumbfounded. This was not any one of the thousands of scenarios he'd ever thought up between himself and Pam. "I guess I'll be right back then." 

Once in his bathroom he felt at a complete loss for thought or words. He changed into his pajamas. He didn't expect anything would happen tonight, but after their kiss at midnight he couldn't be sure. But even her insistence they sleep in the same bed had to be a good thing, right? He brushed his teeth and splashed cold water onto his face. He felt a little tipsy, but not outright drunk. He guessed Pam was in worse shape than he was, but had seen her much more drunk that this. He opened the bathroom door and wondered what awaited him.

He wasn't sure if his deep sigh upon entering his bedroom was relief or disappointment. While he was in the bathroom Pam had crawled under the covers and was now fast asleep on her right side. He turned the light off and climbed into bed behind her, spooning up next to her. He leaned over and brushed the hair out of her face.

"Happy New Year, Pam," he said quietly as he kissed her cheek. 

He wrapped his arm around her waist and rested his cheek against her shoulder. He wondered what would happen come tomorrow morning, but for now she was here, and that certainly was a fine start.


	7. On The Seventh Day of Christmas

The first time Jim woke up, the sun had not yet risen. He had been roused from sleep by the feeling of something tickling his nose. When he reached up to scratch it, he felt hair all over the lower half of his face. He brushed it off and tried to sit up, but felt pinned somewhat by a weight on his chest. He was confused for a moment until last night's events flashed through his mind. Pam. He remembered her coming home with him, insisting they share the bed, and then finding her fast asleep upon his return from the bathroom. He'd crawled into bed, unable to resist the draw of holding her close. He's snuggled up behind her, his arm across her waist, and just took in the feeling. He drifted to sleep feeling the warmth from her body, and hearing the rhythmic rise and fall of her breathing. 

But now he was lying on his back, and she had turned toward him at some point in the night. Her head was on his chest right below his chin, and her hand was curled into a fist and resting on his stomach. He wondered if she'd woken up and moved toward him on purpose, or if it was just random positioning. He couldn't help but wonder if this was how she slept with Roy. He pushed the idea from his mind, and closed his eyes to sleep again. Now she was with him, and now was all that mattered to Jim.

The second time Jim woke up the sun seemed to just be peeking over the horizon, and he was aware of the fact that he needed to use the bathroom. Pam had not moved from her position against him, and it pained him to have to risk waking her in order to get up. It was also rather inconvenient to have to move given that since he was last awake her hand had slipped further down and was now resting intimately in the curve between his groin and right thigh. Just the proximity of her hand, even though she was asleep, was enough to make him immediately hard. He wondered if the gods were trying to test him. 

He moved her hand away, albeit regrettably, in case she woke and wondered what was going on. He shifted his body away from her and stumbled out of bed. She made a sound, but instead of waking turned over onto her right side and settled back down. Jim walked slowly to the bathroom, waiting for his erection to wane so he could more easily use the toilet. The bathroom clock said it was quarter to eight, and Jim hoped he could squeeze out a few more hours of sleep. He looked in the mirror, and to his amazement, realized that he wasn't hung over. He was terribly thirsty, and there was a definite headache that put pressure behind his eyes, but overall he didn't feel too badly. Tired, yes, but not completely hungover. He hoped Pam would wake up feeling no ill effects from her drinking either. 

By the time he made it back to his bedroom, Pam had changed position again, and was now laying on her left side, pretty much in the center of the bed. Jim got back in on the same side he was before, this time lying on his stomach with his arms wrapped around his pillow. His movements in bed, as well as accidentally bumping up against Pam, didn't seem to phase her in the slightest. She kept on sleeping, and occasionally Jim could hear her snoring. He imagined how that might sound to him after forty or fifty years together. He couldn't keep his eyes off her face as he watched her sleep. She looked so peaceful, and yet so vulnerable. Jim thought that this was the closest he'd ever been to Pam, and in many ways it felt so natural, like it happened every day. There was so much he still wanted to know - what had happened over the summer, why she left Roy, where they fit together now that Karen was gone and they clearly were feeling something when they were together. But watching her now, he felt it could all wait a little longer. He was content just to be with her, and if last night was any indication, she seemed to be feeling the same. Her toast that they not be apart again was the best thing she could have said. Not that he could imagine ever being able to walk away from her again. He didn't quite know how things were going to work out, but at that moment he felt quite certain that somehow, some way, they would. Watching her and thinking about the future was enough to lull Jim back to sleep for a while longer. 

Jim was awoken the third time by the feeling of fingertips against his cheek. He opened his eyes to find Pam awake, facing him, and rubbing his jaw with her thumb.

"Can I help you?" he asked blearily.

"I had no idea how much stubble you have," Pam replied, seemingly fascinated with his morning facial hair. "Is it like this every day?"

"Good morning to you, too," he said, stretching and shifting his position from being on his stomach to being on his right side to face her. "How are you feeling?"

"You mean apart from the killer headache and this mouth full of cotton?"

"Yeah, same here," he commiserated. "I just hope you remember everything from last night."

"Yeah, I do."

"Really?"

Pam furrowed her eyebrows together. "Yes, I'm pretty sure. Why?"

"Then you remember everything you said to me when we got in bed last night?"

She looked at him, and Jim thought he saw the faintest sign of worry appear on her face. 

"I hope you aren't going to take it back now," he continued.

"What did I say?" She asked slowly.

"I knew you wouldn't remember," Jim said, looking away. He was trying very hard to keep a straight face, to see how long he could keep her believing she'd said something revealing. "You seemed pretty adamant at the time. I guess next you're going to tell me you have no memory of what happened afterwards."

He made the mistake of looking at Pam, and her look of total confusion and apprehension made him start to grin.

Pam noticed his expression and pushed him in the chest. "You're lying!" Pam nearly shouted, then put her hand to her head in pain. "Oh my god, Jim Halpert, I can't believe you," she muttered, rolling away from him. "Go away, you evil, evil man."

Jim rocked with laughter. "Oh come on, Beesly, I just couldn't resist. You should have seen the worry creeping across your face."

"Go away," she grumbled. 

He moved over and put his hand on her shoulder. "Come on, I'm sorry." He moved closer behind her. "Admit it. You would have done the same if you'd thought of it first."

"Hmmm." she replied. "My head hurts."

He rubbed her shoulder. "Hold on, I'll be right back."

Jim took the steps two at a time, heading down to the kitchen to grab a few bottles of water from the fridge. Once back upstairs he found the aspirin bottle in the bathroom cabinet, and then sat down on Pam's side of the bed.

Pam sat up as Jim spilled a few aspirins out and opened a bottle of water. "I still think you're evil," she pouted, looking up at him through her disheveled bangs. "But I may forgive you if you look after me this morning." She took the aspirin out of his hand and swallowed them down with half a bottle of the water he offered. He did the same, putting the two remaining unopened water bottles on the bed table near her.

"And how would you like me to look after you?"

Pam slid back down under the comforter. "Let me sleep a bit longer," she groaned. "Then you can make me breakfast when I feel better."

Jim smiled. "Would you like a cool towel for your head while I'm at it?"

"Not right now, thanks." Pam peered up at him, a small smile appearing.

"Well move over, Beesly," he said. "I could use some more rest, too."

"Fine," she huffed, but Jim saw her grin as she moved over. They both laid on their backs, their heads turned toward each other. They looked at each other for a minute, then Pam closed her eyes. "Thanks for letting me sleep over," she said.

"Well, it was a surprising turn for our first date."

"It wasn't our first date. I thought it was supposed to be our fifth or sixth."

"Even so - I had no idea how easy you are, Beesly."

"How you wish, Halpert." She didn't even open her eyes; she just flung her left arm out and hit him in the chest. Jim grabbed her arm and held it. She didn't pull away, nor did she resist when he slid his hand into hers, intertwining their fingers.

"I do wonder what Phyllis and Bob thought, though," Jim mused aloud.

"Oh my God, I forgot about them."

"Yeah, I guessed that from how you jumped out of the van and practically yelled that you were going to sleep here."

Pam giggled. "I didn't do that."

"If I remember correctly, you said 'I'm just going to crash here tonight, Bob,' and then you slammed the van door shut loudly."

"Crash has a different connotation than sleep," Pam argued, albeit weakly.

"Okay, Beesly. You can ask Phyllis tomorrow if she thinks there's a difference."

"Shut up," she replied.

"I'm just saying. Don't be surprised when you find out people are whispering about you behind your back. Scranton's a small town, and people do like to gossip."

"So you're saying my reputation is ruined now?"

"Not necessarily," he replied, enjoying the fact that she was still holding his hand. "I just wouldn't go expecting the invitations from respectable men to be coming in for a while."

"Eh," she said as she moved closer to him. "I'll still be hearing from you then." She pulled her pillow over to him, and rested her head partly on his shoulder. "Is this okay?" she asked softly. "It feels better if my head is a little elevated."

Jim squeezed her hand, "Yeah, that's fine," he replied, and closed his eyes to enjoy her nearness.

"Thanks," she said, squeezing his hand back.

It was nearing noon by the time they stirred again. Jim felt Pam sit up. "How are you doing now, Beesly?" He asked, rubbing his eyes open.

"Better. May I have some more water?"

Jim passed her a bottle, and then forced himself to sit up as well. He opened the remaining water bottle and drank nearly all of it at once. 

"Well that was impressive," Pam teased.

"I'm sorry, I'm still so thirsty."

"How's your headache?" she asked.

"Almost gone."

"Good," she smiled. "I'm starving. When's breakfast?"

As requested Jim headed downstairs to see what he could put together for breakfast. He hadn't bothered to change out of his pajamas, and Pam's quick appearance downstairs told him that she's not bothered with much more than using the extra toothbrush he had and throwing last night's clothes on. Even with her slightly rumpled appearance, he had to smile at how adorable he found her. He'd be happy to be responsible for breakfasts every day of their lives if scenes such as this could be come routine.

He filled two tumblers with ice and water and put one in front of her while she sat at the table. "Keep drinking water and you'll be completely fine by this afternoon," he told her. 

"Really?" she grinned. "Where did you get that information from?"

"Oh, a really wise woman once nursed me to health. She said it was very important to drink water to rehydrate after a night of drinking."

"Smart woman." Pam smiled. "So what are you making me?"

"Well, you have a choice of toast with butter, toast with butter and jam, or a bowl of low-sugar Fruit Loops."

"Wow, all that to choose from?"

"Hey, I wasn't expecting guests."

Pam smiled. "Toast and jam sounds good. Can you do a cup of tea as well, or is that asking too much?"

"Ooh, I'll have to check with the chef," Jim grinned. He opened up a cabinet and pulled out a box of tea. "Will China Black do?"

"Sounds perfect," she replied, sipping her ice water. 

Soon they were enjoying a brunch of toast, butter, jam and tea, and Jim felt the last of his headache slip away. "So what's the plan for today, Beesly?"

She put down her tea. "I suppose I need to find a way to get my car from Kevin's, then I'll go home to get showered and changed and then meet my mother for dinner."

"You're driving two hours tonight for dinner?"

"No, just about an hour, actually. We've had this tradition the last few years of meeting halfway at this little family restaurant on New Year's Day. Just her and me. What are you doing?"

Jim shrugged. "Probably stop by my parents' house. Watch television. Nothing nearly as exciting as dinner somewhere between here and Harrisburg." He finished eating his toast in silence and then stood up. "I'm going to run upstairs and get dressed while you finish your breakfast. There's still hot water in the coffee machine if you want more tea."

He went upstairs and jumped into the shower. He felt a little foolish, having practically tried to get her to invite him along to dinner. What more did he want? She's been with him since last night, slept in his bed, and still seemed happy to be around him. Surely pushing himself into her dinner plans was a bit much. But he just couldn't help it. The more she seemed willing to stay around, the more he wanted her with him. Part of it was fear, he knew. He was afraid if she left without some sort of understanding between them then he wouldn't have any idea what to do come tomorrow at work. What this just a holiday fluke? Or could she finally be interested in something more than friends? He could still vividly remember her kiss from last night; that was not the kiss of someone who was just a friend. And did her being drunk make it more or less important? Jim stood with his head under the hot shower, trying to rinse all the unanswered questions out of his mind. For every positive thought, he found a fear to counteract it. When he finally stepped out of the shower he did remember one thing: she still owed him a kiss. And he sure as hell was going to make sure she paid up.

He threw on a button down white shirt and a green sweater along with his jeans and black high tops. He automatically folded the shirt sleeves over and pushed his sleeves up to this elbow. He really hated wearing his sleeves down if he didn't have to. It just felt too bulky for some reason. 

Happy with his appearance, Jim was coming down the stairs when there was a knock at the door. Pam appeared from the kitchen at the sound and stood behind him as he opened the door. He smiled when he saw it was Parma.

"Happy New Year, Parma," he said. "Did you go out to celebrate last night?"

She handed him the clipboard. "Yes, I spent a quiet evening with friends. You?"

Jim stepped back so she could see Pam standing behind him. "We did much the same," he grinned. 

Pam elbowed him. "He's lying. We were at a pretty big party of a friend of ours," she explained. "In fact, we have to get back there to pick up our cars."

"Which is not something I'm sure she really needs to know," Jim interrupted. "Actually, maybe she could help us," Pam retorted. "Parma, would you mind very much dropping us off at our friend's house to get our cars? I mean, you don't have any other delivery that can't wait ten minutes, do you?"

Parma looked at Pam, then at Jim, and then back to Pam. Jim thought Parma probably thought they were crazy. "Uh, okay," she finally said. "Is it very far from here?"

"No, not really," Jim said. "And I have to admit we'd really appreciate the lift."

"No problem then," Parma smiled. "I can do it."

"Great! I'll just get my purse." Pam walked back into the kitchen, while Jim picked up his keyring from the hook near the door. 

"Oh, here - before I forget to give this to you," Parma said, handing Jim a flat white envelope. 

"Going small today, I see," Jim replied, looking at the stiff cardboard envelope.

"Well, they say good things come in small packages," Parma replied.

Jim rested it at the base of the stairs as Pam returned from the kitchen. They followed Parma to her car, and Jim held the front passenger door for Pam as she got in. Jim slid in the backseat, leaning forward between the two front bucket seats to direct Parma to Kevin's street. 

In about ten minutes Parma had them at their cars. "Thanks so much, Parma," Pam said as both of them got out of the car. "No problem, Pam," Parma replied, taking off as soon as they had shut the car doors. 

Jim followed Pam to her car. "Do you have to run off, or can you follow me back? I thought maybe you'd like to see what came for the Seventh Day of Christmas."

"How can I resist an offer like that?" she laughed. "I'll meet you there."

As Jim drove back, he wasn't sure what he was more excited about - the newest gift awaiting him, or the fact he so easily lured Pam back to his house. He still had that second kiss she owed him on his mind, but the last place he wanted to mention it was in the middle of the street - especially in front of Kevin's house! This way he could bring it up in an environment suited for just about any reaction. Not that he was expecting anything, he told himself. But it didn't hurt to hope.

She pulled her car behind his in the driveway, and jumped out. When he got out of his Toyota she was practically pulling him by the arm toward the front door. "What's the rush, Beesly?"

She laughed. "I'm just trying to build the tension. Let's see what's in the box!"

He shook his head and unlocked the door. Pam threw her purse on the floor in the hallway and picked up the envelope, sitting down on the stairs. Jim sat on the step below her, and she handed him the gift.

"Is there a reason we are opening this on the steps?" He asked.

"Not really," she grinned. "But it's not that uncomfortable sitting here."

"Okay then," Jim shrugged. He opened the end of the white mailer and two envelopes slid out - a long thin one and a heavy square one. He put the heavier one on the step below him, under his legs to keep it safe, and carefully opened the thin envelope while Pam peered curiously from over his shoulder. Jim pulled out two tickets, read the printing, then laughed. "Excellent," he said.

"What? What are they for?" Pam asked.

He handed them over his shoulder to her. "What arrived on the Seventh Day of Christmas?"

"Seven swans a-swimming," she replied as she looked at the tickets. She grinned. "Two tickets to Swan Lake next month at the Kirby Center in Wilkes Barre. That's appropriate."

Jim leaned back on the stairs to look up at her. "So are you doing anything on the the tenth of February?"

"Don't you think it's a little early to be giving your second ticket away?"

"Why?"

Pam rolled her eyes. "Because...because the sender of these tickets might just want to be the one who goes with you to this."

"Then they should have made that notation on the tickets." 

Pam sighed. "These are from your True Love, Jim. She or He probably didn't think you needed that spelled out for you."

"Or He? What are you implying, Beesly?"

"That your True Love is a man? I thought that would be pretty obvious from the pronoun, Halpert."

He scooted up a step to look at her. "Thanks, Beesly. Because I really am not doing well enough without your help and insinuations."

Pam laughed. "What? I'm just saying..."

"Uh huh," Jim murmured. He remembered the other envelop and picked it up off the step. 

"What's that?" Pam asked.

"No doubt the stained glass ornament," he replied, opening it carefully. Today's ornament had a bright blue background, with silhouettes of two swans side by side in a river. Small bits of red and green glass gave the illusion of a river bank, and there was a small section of gold near the top right corner for sunlight. 

"Nice," Pam said, leaning against his shoulder.

Jim pulled out the message, and didn't even bother to hide it from Pam:

Swans mate for life. So do some breeds of Penguins, but you usually don't hear about those as often. My point is that people could learn from birds. I know the only mate I'll ever want in my life is you.

Jim lifted his head and watched Pam as she read the message. When she looked up they gazed at each other without saying a word. Pam finally looked away, and Jim put the message and the stained glass ornament in the thick envelope. He took back the tickets from Pam, and for the first time today there was a feeling of tension between them. He put everything back into the cardboard mailer, and set it at the bottom of the stairs. He turned back to look at Pam. 

"So," he said.

"So," she repeated.

"I guess you are going to be leaving now."

"Yeah, I probably should."

Jim glanced down at his hands, then leaned back on the step behind him. "I probably shouldn't bring this up, but there is still a small matter of payment for last night's services."

She tilted her head. "What do you mean?"

"Last night you promised me two kisses for being your date for the evening." He paused to take a deep breath, to calm the butterflies in this stomach. "You still owe me one."

"Oh," Pam replied, her mouth forming the letter perfectly. "Well, I guess a deal is a deal," she said, not looking at Jim's face.

Pam leaned over, putting her right hand on his shoulder to steady herself. She pressed her lips gently to Jim's. Jim brought his arms around her waist and up her back, pulling her closer and closer to him until she was practically sitting on his lap. She continued to kiss him, bringing her other arm up around his neck. He could feel his hair being wound around her fingers and in his desire for her opened his mouth to invite her in. She moved slowly, her tongue and teeth focused on his lower lip at first, but then she pressed herself closer and tasted all of him. She tastes of tea and mint and strawberry jam, and he knew she simply couldn't be unaware of the effect she was having on him. It seemed to Jim like days must have passed, he was so immersed in the feeling of her. 

When they finally pulled away, she looked at him with an expression he couldn't read. Much like the way she had looked at him Thursday night before she left. "What's wrong?" he asked, afraid he was setting himself up for another big letdown.

"What are we doing?" She asked softly.

Jim couldn't resist a grin. "I think they call it kissing."

His reply lightened her mood, which made his heart sing. "You're an idiot," she said, a wisp of a smile showing. "You know what I'm asking."

"What do you want this to be?" He found himself saying. Again, the warning bells in the back of his head told him to prepare for the worst. "I don't want to be accused of misinterpreting anything this time."

She looked at him for a minute. "No, you've never misinterpreted things, Jim. Not before, not now." She looked down the stairs, and when she looked back at Jim he could see tears starting to form. "There's so much unsaid between us. I don't think I even know where to start."

"What do you want this to be, Pam?" he repeated. "There's nothing that can't be worked out if that's what you want."

She looked at him again, and he was starting to feel anxious until she brought her hand up to his face. "I want this to be my second chance," she finally said, and she quickly kissed him again. Tears reflected off her eyelashes when she pulled back, but she was smiling now. "I also wouldn't mind seeing you with some more of that stubble you were wearing this morning. It quite suited you."

Jim laughed and pulled her onto his lap for another kiss, this one without a doubt the best kiss he could ever remember, because it tasted of promise, of happiness and of her.

7786 - count when this was posted. 


	8. On The Eighth Day of Christmas

Jim Halpert was not a man with strong opinions on masturbation. He did it, like just about every other person on the planet, but it wasn't something he spent a lot of time thinking about. Unlike his old roommate Mark, who always felt the need to update Jim on his daily count and who had inspired it. Jim wasn't embarrassed about it, he just didn't see the point in making a big deal of about it. Sometimes he went days without feeling the urge, sometimes he wondered if he was getting addicted to it. The last couple of days certainly fell into the latter category. He blamed Pam completely. Well, not to her face, but the changes in their relationship had certainly stoked a fire that he was not in the least bit interested in putting out.

Yesterday afternoon it had been nearly thirty minutes from the time she told him she had to go to the time they had stopped kissing long enough for her to stand up and get to the door. They were both flushed, and Jim knew that if he'd been a little more aggressive, he could have convinced her to go back upstairs with him. To stay for more than just laughter and kisses. But he held back at the last moment. He wanted her to be the one to suggest staying. He believed they were finally breaking down the boundaries between them, but he wanted to be absolutely sure that she wanted him, wanted him enough to make the next move unprompted. So he let her go. But as soon she left, he locked the door and unzipped his jeans. He might have made the careful decision, but that couldn't negate how much he wanted her. He sat back on the steps, on the step she had first been sitting on actually, and closed his eyes, reliving her kisses while he released the tension from his body.

His alarm on Tuesday went off at six o'clock, the same time it was set for last week. Jim stirred, the images from his dream slowly fading. He was aware that the dream had revolved around yesterday, around Pam, and as a result he was fully erect. He turned his alarm clock off, and tried to recapture the dream. The sweatshirt she had worn the previous night was still lying on the pillow next to him, and when he brought it to his face, it still smelled of her. And like he had done when he got into bed last night, he used that smell to bring her back next to him, and weaved his desire for her into the pleasure he was giving himself. Not nearly as good as what he really wanted, but it would fulfill his basic need for now. He had no intention of pushing her, but lord knew he'd certainly be relieved when she was ready. 

He was standing in the shower when he remembered the bet they had made on Friday. Shit, he thought. He had meant to get up earlier to beat her to the office. He knew how competitive she was, and he had absolutely no doubt that she was probably already there waiting for him with a satisfied grin on her face. i Still,/i he thought, imight as well hurry up so we'll have more time together before the rest of the office shows up./i 

He reached for his razor and adjusted the shower mirror. He rubbed the shaving cream into his face when he remembered her interest in seeing him unshaven more often. iWhat the hell,/i he thought. iIt will cut time getting dressed today./i And the comments he was sure to receive from people like Dwight and Andy would be bearable in comparison to just one look in her eye that told him she liked it.

He pulled into the Dunder Mifflin parking lot just before seven o'clock, and as he expected, the parking lot was empty except for the security car and one small blue car. Pam was bundled up in her pink coat, scarf and gloves, leaning up against her bumper and clearly waiting for him. She smiled and waved as he pulled into the parking spot to the right of hers.

Jim felt slightly giddy at the sight of her. This was their first day back at work after so much had happened over the weekend. He knew the camera crew would be in as usual, and he and Pam hadn't even discussed what they were going to say, or not say, about their relationship. Still, she had looked happy to see him, and that's all that really mattered to him. 

"You're here early, Beesly," he said as he got out of car. He buttoned the top two buttons of his wool coat as the cold air hit him. "How long have you been standing out here?"

"Not that long, I knew you were coming."

"And how did you know that?"

"I was over at your house this morning. Waited until I saw the upstairs lights go off, and then headed here." She smiled as if she were very pleased with herself.

Jim shook his head. "Man, I knew you were competitive, but this - how long were you spying on me?"

"I think I was there right before six. But it was hardly spying - I wasn't peeking in your windows or anything like that."

Jim couldn't help but grin, imagining the look on her face had she been able to see what he'd been doing at that time. Would have served her right, he thought.

"What?" Pam asked.

"Nothing," he replied. "But you are aware that the contest was who would get into the office first, not who would stand around freezing in the cold first?"

"Same thing, isn't it?"

Jim shook his head. "Absolutely not. How can you be sure you'll get to the office before me now? You could get stuck in the elevator and I might take the steps. You might trip just feet from the door. Anything could go wrong, Beesly. I expected more of you, I have to admit."

"We'll see, Halpert," she replied. She grabbed his arm. "Help me walk to the door, some of this blacktop is still icy."

"Ah, your true motives are revealed," he grinned. 

They walked into the building, giving a nod to the half-awake security guard.

"Stairs or elevator?" Jim asked, a challenge in his tone.

Pam hit the up button. "Elevator. For both of us." The bell dinged and the doors opened. Pam walked in, her hand on Jim's arm firmly pulling him in. She pressed the button for the second floor, and watched the doors as they closed in front of them. As soon as they shut, Jim was surprised by Pam pushing him gently against the wall. She dropped her purse and brought her hands up around his neck, even though they were still encased in her mittens. She stood up on tiptoes and gave him a kiss, not breaking it off until Jim had put his arms around her. 

Jim grinned at her. "Trying to distract me from winning?"

"I'm just trying to say good morning," she replied. "If you'd prefer I stop..."

He lowered his head silenced her with a kiss. The doors opened and they kept kissing. Jim heard the sound of the doors starting to close and reached out to hit the Door Open button. "Come on, Beesly," he said.

Pam picked up her purse and skipped out of the elevator first. She started around the corner to the office door, but Jim's legs were longer and he quickly over took her. He was standing in front of the door when she finally got there. 

"What the matter?" Pam asked. "Why aren't you in yet?"

Jim shrugged. "Forgot my key."

Pam laughed. "Loser." She used her key to open the door. Jim held the door as Pam walked in first. She put her purse on her desk, and unzipped her coat. 

"I won," she declared as she hung her coat up. 

"Yes, you won," Jim replied, as he hung his coat next to hers. "That should keep you happy for a little while."

She put her hands on her hips and looked up at him in the still-darkened office. "You had your key, didn't you?"

Jim nodded. "I had my key."

"You let me win! That's not fair!"

Jim moved closer and wrapped her in a hug. "No, you won fair and square. There's no way I'd have been sitting outside your house at six a.m. just to beat you here." He kissed the top of her head. "Besides, I'm pretty sure the reward assures us both of winning."

She looked up at him. "Yeah, but I get to choose the restaurant."

"Doesn't matter to me."

"Even if it's somewhere you don't like?"

He shook his head. "I don't care."

"You know, this relationship is never going to work if you have the lost the need for one-upmanship against me, Jim."

He grinned. "Oh, trust me. I haven't."

"Good. In that case, I think I might be hungry for Greek food tonight. Didn't I hear you mentioned a new place called Steve's the other day?"

He hugged her close. "You're too much." 

He stepped away and finally turned on the office lights. He watched as Pam picked up her green teapot and headed toward the kitchen. He dropped his messenger bag next to his desk, pulled out his lunch bag, slipped off his suit jacket and put it over his chair, and followed her.

She was filling the kettle with water when he walked in. The first thing he noticed was that she had put those big, loose curls in her hair. She had worn it that way his first day back. He mentally kicked himself when he remembered how he had turned down her invitation for coffee that day. She had looked so beautiful, just like she did today, and he had been proud of himself for resisting her. He knew now he had just been stupid. "Did you come in here to stare at me or do you have something to do?" Pam teased.

"How do you do that to your hair?" 

Pam brought her hand up to the curls on her shoulder. "What do you mean?"

"Those big curls."

She grinned. "I just used a curling iron, then a little hairspray."

"You never did that before."

"I'm surprised you noticed."

Jim snorted as he opened the fridge and put his lunch away. "No you're not," he replied, shutting the door. "You know I notice everything about you."

He saw her blush, so he walked over to her and leaned against the counter while she waited for her water to boil. "So what's with the change?"

She shrugged. "I've tried a lot of different things while you were away," she said quietly.

"Oh? Like what? Smoking? Experimental drugs? Drag Racing?"

She laughed. "No, more like make-up and clothes. And hairstyles."

He folded his arms against his chest and stepped a little closer. "Wow. You went off the girly deep end, huh?"

Pam smiled. "Well, I was spending a lot of time with Kelly."

He reached out and touched her shirt. The red shirt Kelly had her buy in the summer that had been sitting in her closet since then. "This is new, too."

She nodded. "Is that okay?" She raised her eyebrow as if daring him to object.

"Yeah, it is. You look beautiful." He leaned over and sniffed the air. "Beesly, tell me you aren't wearing perfume as well."

She grinned. "I've worn perfume before, Jim."

He leaned in again. "You have not worn that scent before. Not around me you haven't anyway."

"Oh, like you'd remember."

"Oh yes. I definitely would have remembered that. What is it?"

"Oh, it's just something French I bought years ago. It's called Lou Lou. I'm not sure they even make it anymore."

"That's a shame. Well, I want you to know that this little scheme of your isn't going to work."

The kettle water was boiling, so Pam turned it off. "What scheme?" 

"This," he said, running his hand up and down in the air to refer to her outfit and hair. "This Fancy New Beesly you've trotted out. You're trying to distract me from my official duties as Assistant Regional Manager."

She giggled. "Well what about you?"

"What do you mean?"

Pam reached up and stroked his cheek and jaw. "Are you going to tell me you just forgot to shave today?"

"Well, I was in a hurry."

"Uh-huh. And I didn't dress like this for you."

He grinned at her, his eyebrows raised. "You didn't?" 

She bit her lip, and Jim saw her starting to blush again. "Well, not entirely for you, anyway," she said defiantly.

Jim laughed loudly. "Well you should know that it's not going to affect me." He ran his hand along her shoulders, pulling her a little closer. "I thought you were distracting yesterday morning, sleeping in my sweatshirt and hungover. I spent years being distracted by you in those old ratty cardigans and skirts that did nothing for you. It's not the packaging, Beesly."

She just looked up at him. "I'm sure there's a compliment in there somewhere," she finally said.

"There is," he replied, placing a kiss on her forehead. He was about to walk out when she called his name.

"What are we going to do today?" she asked, looking slightly worried.

He walked back over to her. "You mean, about us?"

"Yeah," she replied. "I'm not really even sure what 'we' are. I know you didn't want the office to know about you and Karen."

He nodded. "There were specific reasons for that," he said, but decided not to elaborate. "I guess it's probably wisest to just keep it quiet for now?"

Pam nodded. "Yeah, at least for a while. Let things settle down. See where we are."

"You might want to have a talk with Phyllis today. You know, about how she knows you demanded to sleep with me on New Year's Eve."

Pam looked up to ceiling. "I did not sleep with you," she groaned, then laughed. "Okay, I did. But not that way." She looked over at Jim. "Yes, I'll talk to her."

"Are we sorted out for now then?"

"I guess," she said. She poured the hot water into her teapot, and added an English Breakfast tea bag. She was about to pick it up when Jim placed his hand over hers and pushed the teapot away. She looked up at him, curious.

"Think we can sneak a few minutes back here before anyone else comes in?" He asked, running his hands down the sides of her arms. 

She glanced up at the clock. It was just after seven-thirty. "I suppose we can risk a minute or two," she said, her cheeks looking an attractive pink. "Just don't let my tea get cold."

They were back at their desks by ten to eight. Jim made sure his tie was straightened and his shirt completely tucked back in. He'd checked in the bathroom mirror to remove any remaining traces of Pam's lipstick, and suggested that in the future she not to apply it until after work started. In return Pam told him that while she found the stubble incredibly attractive, he should probably stick to shaving on work days, as she need a bit of powder to hid the graze marks it had left on her cheeks and neck. 

As the morning parade of Dunder Mifflin employees began, Jim focused on his tasks for the day. Michael wasn't due to come in until sometime later today, and Jim had half a guess that they probably wouldn't even see him until tomorrow. There were new reports and files that needed started for 2007, and now was as good a time as any to set them up. He'd rather be spending time finding reasons to go over to see Pam, but thought he should at least put forth some effort to work. Little by little though, thoughts of this morning's make-out session crept in, and by nine-thirty he couldn't resist talking to her again. Jim opened up IM and send Pam a message:

JH: So, how was your mom yesterday?

PB: She was doing well, thanks.

JH: Did you talk about me?

PB: Your name might have come up a time or two...

JH: What did you say?

PB: Wouldn't you like to know?

JH: Tell me, Beesly.

PB: Or what?

JH: Please?

PB: Oh, you know. I told he how we met up at Kevin's New Year's party, how we had a bit to drink, how I ended up sleeping over at your house, how you wouldn't let me leave until you felt me up...

JH!! I did no such thing!

PB: Really? On the stairs before I left? Oh, I think so.

JH: I'm sorry to ruin your delusions, Beesly.

PB: You did.

JH: Trust me, you'll know when I feel you up.

Jim turned around and saw her staring at him, her blush returning. He smiled slightly and nodded knowingly before turning back around. Today was going to be so much fun.

JH: Don't forget to talk to Phyllis. I'm sure she's not planning on saying anything, but she keeps turning around and smiling like a Cheshire cat at me.

PB: That's probably because she wants to sleep over, too.

JH: Good point, hadn't thought of that. I'll go ask her if she's free this weekend.

Jim had paperwork to give to Phyllis anyway, so he made the most of walking over to her, bending over her chair, and talking just low enough that Pam couldn't possible hear from her desk. He gave Pam a smirk and the thumb's up signal as he was walking back to his desk, and was in no way surprised to find a message from Pam waiting for him.

PB: So what did she say?

JH: She said she's been waiting FOREVER for me to ask. She thinks Bob's going out of town on Friday, but she'll have to let me know.

PB: Good luck with that.

JH: Thanks. After Phyllis I think I'll ask Stanley. You know, spread the love.

Jim heard a burst of laughter behind him, and bit his lip to prevent joining in. How could he not love this woman?

Jim looked around the office and noticed that Karen had still not come in yet. He'd received no messages that she would be late or absent, so he asked Pam.

JH: Have you heard from Karen today?

PB: No, should I have?

JH: I don't know, but she's not here and I haven't heard from her.

PB: I hope she's okay.

JH: I'm sure she is. Just let me know if she calls.

Jim thought Pam had been remarkably restained in not asking about what happened between him and Karen. He knew in her position he would want to know, and more importantly, he didn't want any secrets between them anymore. Real communication was the one aspect of their relationship that he knew they needed to work on. He decided to bring the topic up tonight, especially since Karen had asked him to pass on that message to Pam.

At eleven Jim heard the entrance door swing open, and the way it hit the wall convinced him that Michael had decided to come in. He took a deep breath and turned around, ready for the chaos of Michael's return to begin. He was therefore surprised to see Parma walking in, carrying a white styrofoam cooler.

Jim walked over to her. "Can I help you with that?"

"Sure, thanks," she smiled. "It's for you, after all."

Pam looked up and smiled at Parma. "Thanks again for the ride yesterday."

"Not a problem," she replied. 

Jim looked over at Pam and remembered something. Parma had used Pam's name yesterday when they were getting out of the car. Something about it not being a bother, or you're welcome, or something like that. He didn't remember that part specifically but he could hear Parma say Pam's name. He kept that revelation to himself as he signed for the cooler and told Parma goodbye, but he knew he'd be mentioning it to Pam later. He had no memory of Pam introducing herself to Parma, so how could Parma know? He couldn't surpress a grin as he carried the cooler over to his desk. He might have just cracked the mystery of his "True Love," and he was more than happy at the solution he'd come up with.

"What day is it today, Halpert?" Ryan asked, peeking around the side of his monitor. 

"Eighth day, Ryan," Jim replied, cutting the clear tape that held the lid on the cooler. 

"So who do you think it is?" Ryan asked. "You gotta have some idea by this time."

Jim pursed his lips together and shook his head. "No, not really. Whoever is doing this has covered all their bases in terms of keeping their identity hidden." He hoped Pam had heard that.

"That's just creepy, man." Ryan went back to his work. Jim thought it was the farthest thing from creepy he'd ever experienced, but that just showed him another reason he and Ryan were worlds apart. That and the fact Ryan could listen to Kelly talking for hours on end and not take his own life. That was a big difference, too.

He received an IM from Pam:

PB: What's the delay, Halpert? I want to know what you got today.

JH: Patience is a virtue, Beesly. I'm working on it.

PB. Hah. Like you know anything about virtue.

JH: I do know about patience, though, wouldn't you say?

PB: Just shut up and open the box.

He lifted off the cover to find a heavy square envelope sealed in a ziploc bag. He placed that on his desk, and under that found a bag labeled CAUTION - DRY ICE. He lifted it up by the safety handle, the tendrils of smoke rising around the bag, which immediately caught Dwight's attention.

"What is that?" He asked, standing up.

"It says dry ice, Dwight."

"I can see that, Jim. What are you doing with it?"

"I'm taking it out of this cooler."

"Oh." Dwight seemed to be thinking. "Can I have it?"

"Why do you need dry ice?" Jim asked, afraid of the answer he was about to receive.

"It's a very useful tool. I have a variety of a things it could be useful for."

"Well, by all means then," Jim chuckled. "Make full use of its usefullness"  
Dwight almost - almost! - smiled at Jim's reply and quickly took posession of the bag and headed to the kitchen with it. Jim looked over at Pam and gave her a smile. The smile he always like to use to tell her "Yes, Dwight's a complete idiot. Oh, and by the way, I'm completely in love with you." The smile she sent back to him felt like maybe she had said the same thing, too.

Jim looked into the cooler and laughed, then put the lid back on.

JH: Guess what I got?

PB: What?

JH: Guess, I said!

PB: Well, today's Eight Maids a-Milking. Are there chopped up body parts from eight dead milkmaids in there?

JH: Oh - you are SOO close! Another guess.

PB: Hmm... a bucket of fresh cow's milk?

JH: Getting warmer (or in this case, colder)

PB: What is it?

JH: Just keep an eye out for an evite heading your way...

He closed his IM window and opened up a new web browser. He spent a moment creating a basic evite for everyone who was in the office today. He sent it out, and decided to open the white envelope while he waited to hear from Pam. 

He always thought the newest ornament was nicer than the last, but this time he thought it might really be true. There were three old fashioned glass milk bottles in the center of the piece, and they were colored mostly white but accented with prism glass. They caught the light even without movement. There were streams of color expanding out from the milk bottles; oranges, yellows, and lighter greens. The objects depicted might seem odd, but the overall piece was masterfully done. He looked inside the envelope, and to his suprise he found no message. He felt slightly distressed, then noticed it had fallen to the floor near his foot. He whisked it up to read:

It Had to Be Moo? Moo Don't Know Cow Much I Love Moo? There'll Never Be Anyone Else But Me for Moo? All the bad puns in the world can't express what Moo mean to me.

He rolled his eyes, but smiled nonetheless. He would be sure to tease her mercilessly for this one. He felt a little jolt in his stomach when he realized that he was starting to really believe these gifts were from Pam. He'd wanted to believe it all along, naturally, but the name slip up made him feel more confident in his suspicions. He began to wonder if letting her know that he caught the slip was the right idea. Maybe he should let her think he didn't suspect her, though how in the world she could think he wouldn't was beyond him. Especially given how things had changed between them. But to be fair, this had started days before then. And if she'd taken all this time and effort, he didn't want to ruin it for her. He'd play along for four more days. And there was still nagging doubt that despite the odds, these gifts weren't from her at all. 

He heard a ping.

PB: Are you serious???

JH: Beesly, would I lie about something so important?

PB: But you're giving it away!

JH: Not all of it, silly. But there are eight pints of it. I don't think even you could eat all of that.

PB: That sounds like a step away from a challenge.

Jim laughed.

JH: No, I'm not going to be held responsible for something like that. Tell me what flavor you want me to save for you, and you can have a pint all to yourself.

PB: What flavors did you get?

JH: I didn't write them down, but it looked like all the usuals were there.

PB: Cherry Garcia?

JH: Yes, definitely saw that one. That's one of my two favorites.

PB: I assume the other is Chunky Monkey then?

JH: No, though that's in there as well. My other favorite is Karamel Sutra. Have you had it? It's amazing! 

PB: Karamel Sutra? You have got to be kidding me.

JH: Nope. Half chocolate and half caramel ice cream, fudge chips and a center of pure caramel. And my "True Love" must be my true love because that flavor is in there, too.

PB: Wow. Lucky you.

JH: Yeah, I'd say. I'm starting to worry for you, Pam. This True Love person is really starting to win me over. 

PB: I'm going now, Loser. Enjoy kissing your ice cream.

Jim grinned and looked over his shoulder at Pam. He could tell that she was aware of him, but she purposely kept looking everywhere else but at him.

JH: Wow. I didn't realize how prone you are to jealousy. 

No reply.

JH: I was just teasing you, Beesly.

PB: Hmm. 

JH: How about I save the Cherry Garcia and the Karamel Sutra and you meet me on the roof at one o'clock with a spoon?

PB: Won't it be too cold up there?

JH: Then we can meet at the bottom of the stairwell on level one, like Meredith suggested.

PB: I'll meet you at the ladder to the roof.

Jim took the cooler into the kitchen, and made sure to hide their two pints of ice cream in the back of the freezer. He put the cooler on a table in the break room, and then went back into the kitchen to find spoons and bowls. At noon, people started trickling in to find out more about the Ice Cream Social Jim had invited them to.

He set out the six pints of Ben & Jerry's ice cream, the spoons and the bowls and let everyone at it. He reminded them how nice it was to share, making special eye contact with Kevin as he said it. Stanley walked over to Jim, a rare authentic smile on his face.

"This is better than Pretzel Day," Stanley told him.

"Thank you, Stanley," Jim replied. "That means a lot coming from you."

"Yeah, you missed Pretzel Day this year. That's a real shame."

Jim nodded. "I felt pretty bad about it too. I'm looking forward to next year though. I expect it will be back next year."

Stanley agreed. "God help them if they ever stop Pretzel Day. It will certainly get ugly around here if they do."

Jim watched the clock tick away the hour until he could meet Pam upstairs. He was aware that their absence might be more noticeable without Michael around to distract everyone, but he wanted to be with her more than he care if people noticed they were gone. At ten minutes to one, he tidied up his desk, told Dwight he was going to lunch, and headed into the kitchen. He grabbed the ice cream out of the freezer just as Pam was walking in.

"Hey," Jim said. "I'm going to lunch, so I'll be away from my desk for a while."

"Okay," Pam said. "I set the phone to voice mail because I'm heading out in a few minutes too."

Jim walked out and disappeared into the stair well. He was seated on the very top step licking the lid of the Karamel Sutra pint when she climbed the last set of steps and sat down next to him. 

"How's lunch?" she asked, putting down napkins and a spoon between them.

"Nice," he grinned. "You should try some." 

"I think I will," she replied, opening her hand to take the pint. 

"No, wait," Jim said. He picked up the spoon and dug a little caramel and ice cream out. "Allow me."

"I can feed myself," she said, clearly amused.

"I have no doubt of that, Beesly. But believe me when I tell you it tastes best this way."

"And how would you know that?"

"Would you just shut up and taste it?" 

She obediently opened her mouth and he put the spoon into her mouth. Her slight groan told him all he needed to know. "Want some more?" he asked, and laughed when she nodded enthusiastically. They shared the Karamel Sutra from some minutes, Jim feeding her another spoonful and then taking one for himself. In between bites of ice cream he'd kiss her, and each time she'd snuggle up closer to him. He finally decided they'd had enough of ice cream for now and pushed it behind them, focusing solely on kissing her.

She returned his kiss fully for a short while, then pulled back, putting her hand to her face. "We can't do this, Jim."

"Why not?" He asked, clearly confused.

"You are scraping my face with your stubble," she replied, looking a bit embarrassed. "I really don't mind but it's going to be awfully hard to explain when I get back to my desk."

He chuckled. "Well, either I have to be very, very careful," he replied, "Or I hust have to find other places then your face to kiss." He pulled up the back of her red shirt, and bent over, putting kisses on her back.

Pam giggled and squirmed away. "That tickles," she said. "And your mouth is cold."

"Quit complaining," he replied, and started to kiss her there again.

"No, really, Jim," she said. 

He sighed and sat back up. "You have any other places to suggest?"

She slid next to him. "Let just sit here for a minute, okay? It's nice just to be able to be with you like this."

He put his arm around her. "You're right," he replied, kissing her hair. "You still smell good."

"Thanks," she said, putting her arms around his waist and snuggling closer.

They sat in comfortable silence for several minutes, then Jim suggested they eat some more ice cream before it all melted. They switched over to Cherry Garcia, and this time Pam offered to scoop the ice cream. It was silly, it was sweet, and Jim thought it was one of the best times he'd ever had. He wished they could have spent the rest of the day sitting together up there.

"So what are you going to do when my True Love comes forward this weekend?" Jim asked idly. He wasn't about to admit his suspicions, but he wondered what she'd say.

Pam shrugged her shoulders as she ate another bite of ice cream. "I don't plan on doing anything, actually." She replied. She fed him some ice cream then continued. "I mean basically, sucks for her. Or him." She grinned up at him. "I got here first."

"Yeah, but this is my True Love we're talking about here."

Pam smiled. "Just because they claim their your true love doesn't mean that you might not be someone else's True Love. They can't be certain it's reciprocal."

"Um, yeah, I think you can. I think that's part of the definition of True Love."

Pam seemed to think about this, pausing with her spoon in mid-scoop. She finally lifted the ice cream to her lips and looked over at Jim. "Well then I guess they are mistaken. They aren't your True Love."

Jim grinned. "And you know that? Without even knowing who it is, you say this with certainty."

She lifted her head slightly, and Jim recognized it as her defiant pose. "Yes, I know it. You'll see."

He had no idea what to make of her statement, but he was impressed with her confidence. He leaned over and kissed her, pressing his lips at the point where her neck met her shoulder.

"Hey," she protested.

"What?" he asked, pulling back.

She put the lid on the ice cream and it aside. She turned toward him, putting both of her hands on each side of his face, slowly rubbing her thumbs against the dark stubble. "I guess a few more kisses wouldn't hurt," she said.

It was nearing two o'clock when Pam made her appearance back at her desk, followed a few minutes later by Jim sauntering in with a bottled water and his lunch bag.

"I thought you just came back from lunch," Dwight said, eyeing Jim's brown paper bag.

"Oh yeah, I did," Jim replied, sitting down at his desk. "This is my after lunch snack."

"Oh," Dwight replied. "Nevermind then."

The afternoon passed quickly, and as the day winds down everyone seems to take a moment to thank Jim for the ice cream. Phyllis was on her way downstairs to see Bob Vance when she stopped at his desk.

"That was really nice of you to bring in all that ice cream," she said. "We're really going to miss you being in charge when Michael comes back."

"Michael's not that bad," he replied. "Oh, and has Pam talked to you yet?"

"No, why?"

"No big deal. I just know she wanted to talk to you about something."

Phyllis gave him that smile he'd seen earlier today. "Well, I am getting pretty knowledgeable about weddings," she replied.

Jim ran his hand through his hair. "You know, I'm pretty sure it didn't have anything to do with weddings. You probably should talk to her."

The rest of the afternoon seemed to fly by for Jim. He found out that Karen had left him a voicemail when he was upstairs with Pam. She was taking a few days of personal time to decide what she wanted to do. She made no reference to the reason, not the he had expected her to. He felt the guilt for that situation rise up again, but he knew things had turned out for the best.

Jim waited until everyone else in the office had gone for the day to turn off his computer. He stood up and walked over to Pam's desk, where she was playing FreeCell.

"Think you can tear yourself away for a little dinner?" He asked, leaning on the counter. It felt good to do that and not hear that argument in his head that said he shouldn't be doing it, that he'd moved past it.

She turned off her computer in mid-game. "Depends who with," she replied, standing up.

Jim walked around the counter. "Someone who thinks you're pretty cute," he said, putting his arms around her. 

"Hmm. Is he rich?"

"No, but he will buy your dinner."

"Well, I guess so," she said, her hands resting on his shoulders. "But he better be damn good looking."

"Oh he is. Women fall at his feet all the time."

Pam laughed.

He pulled her close. "It's usually polite to at least try to hold back on the laughter."

She slid her arms around him. "Let's just get out of here, Halpert. I'm starving. All I had for lunch was ice cream."

When they walked out into the parking lot, Jim motioned for her to get in his car. "I'll drive," he offered.

"Why don't we just meet there?" Pam suggested. "I can follow you if you know where it is."

Jim tilted his head. "Why should we drive separately?"

"Because we both live over that way. If we only take one car we'd have to go out of our way to get the car."

"I don't mind doing that," Jim said.

"I just don't want to leave my car here," Pam said, looking down at the ground.

"Then we can take yours. Nobody is going to steal mine."

Pam shook her head. "Why is it just a big deal for both of us to drive?"

"It's not," Jim replied, starting to feel defensive. "I just don't understand why you don't want to ride with me."

Pam stepped closer to him, and grabbed collar of his coat. "Hey, it's not about you or whether I want to ride with you, okay? Don't start reading hidden messages into what I do or say." Before he could reply, she stood up on tiptoes and pressed her lips up against his. She pushed him playfully against his car. "I love being with you, Jim. I just want to drive separately."

"Okay then," he replied. He had been completely surprised by her words as well as her kiss, but that wasn't a bad thing. He found this side of Pam dangerously attractive. "See you there, Beesly."

The restaurant was only half full, and Pam and Jim were seated at a secluded booth toward the back. The sides of the booth came up past head level, and the hostess light the candle on the table. When the hostess walked away, Jim slid over and sat next to Pam.

"I don't think I've ever sat in a booth where I sat on the same side as my dining partner," Pam said, picking up her menu.

"Would you rather me sit on the other side?" Jim asked, wondering if he's just made some sort of mistake.

"No, that's fine," Pam replied, still looking at her menu. "But switch sides with me."

"What?"

"Switch sides. I want to sit on the outside."

"Okay," he replied, sliding out of the booth and standing up.

"Thanks," she said as she got out of the booth.

"No problem," Jim replied, sliding back in. He had no idea what the difference was, but he was happy to humor her.

Pam slipped back in and picked up her menu, opening it up on the table. She leaned down to read it, so Jim picked his menu up as well. He jumped a bit when he felt her hand on his thigh.

Her eyes never left the menu. "Feel better about switching sides now?" she said.

He kept his eyes on his menu, but he couldn't resist a small smile. "Anything you want, Beesly," he replied.

at the car in the parking lot they kiss, Jim wants to come over - Pam tells him to wait. They make a date for dinner at her place on Wednesday. 


	9. On The Ninth Day of Christmas

The Ninth Day of Christmas. Jim drove into work imagining what idea Pam had come up with for today's present. Knowing her, nine ladies dancing could well be anything. He'd ruled out exotic dancers only on the notion that she wouldn't be able to find a box big enough to hold them all. The concept of a white box or container seemed intriguingly consistent for her to deviate from now. Still feeling confident that Pam was behind it all, he already had a list of questions for her. What had prompted such a demonstration? Was it a particular incident or had she just decided it was time to take a chance? What had she hoped would come of it? He had been dating Karen with it all started. Where in there world did she come up with the ideas? And the stained glass ornaments? And where in the hell did learn her new acting skills? He had no strong proof it could be her until Parma has said her name. And speaking of Parma, who was she and how did Pam know her? As he parked his car and walked into work, he had to admit it had made the last week or so interesting, and it had certainly kept his mood up. He couldn't be anything but flattered at all the fuss, and it was good feeling to have this constant reminder of affection. He thought he could really get used to being on the receiving end of such attention. It was just after seven and Pam wasn't yet in the office. They hadn't discussed coming in early today, but Jim had assumed they'd continue their new schedule of spending some time together each morning. He put away his lunch and put the kettle on for her. She might just be running late. He sat down at the table in the kitchen to wait.  
The kettle water boiled and still no Pam. Sighing, Jim shut it off and decided to do some work at his desk until she arrived. He lost track of time as he set up his schedule for the day, and it was past eight o'clock when Michael made his big return. He looked toward the reception desk and felt mildly worried when he realized there was still no Pam. He was about to call her when Michael pulled him into his office for a full Jamaican holiday update.  
Michael's office blinds were closed, which only made Jim more anxious because he had no way of knowing if or when she would walk into the office. He didn't manage to make a break for it until nearly nine, and when he opened the door to escape, caught sight of Pam sitting at her desk. Relieved, he forgot that they were trying to be circumspect about their relationship and practically ran across the room to her.  
"Hey, where have you been?" he asked, his concern evident.  
Pam looked up, clearly unhappy. "I'm so sorry I'm late, Jim. It's been a terrible morning"  
"Are you okay?" He asked. "Can I do something"  
She shook her head. "No, it isn't anything really serious. It's just that I found out this morning that I'm needed to take care of some personal things immediately, and I wasn't expecting it at all. I'm going to have to leave at noon today, if that's alright with you." "Yeah, that's not a problem. Do you want me to come with you"  
She smiled weakly, shaking her head. "No, that's not necessary. But thanks"  
He continued to look at her face, the picture of stress. "Meet me in the stairwell," he said softly.  
"That's okay, Jim, I'll be fine, really"  
He gave her a grin. "I'm not asking for your benefit, Beesly." He walked away, but not before he could see he'd brought a real smile to her face. Jim wasted no time in heading straight for the privacy of the stairwell. He leaned back against the wall of the landing and waited for Pam. The door opened about a minute later, with Pam slipping in and walking straight into Jim's arms for a hug. "I'm sorry," she said again, resting her head against his chest. "I hope you didn't come in too early today"  
"Nah, just the usual seven o'clock in the morning"  
"Oh," she groaned. "I wanted to be here, I swear"  
"I even put the kettle on for you," he said, resting his head on hers.  
"That's because you're wonderful," she replied'  
"Glad to hear you know that, Beesly," he laughed softly. "You want to sit down and tell me what's going on"  
"No," she replied, tightening her arms around his waist. "I just want to stay right here for a little bit longer"  
"Okay," Jim agreed, rubbing her back. "But where do you have to go today"  
"I know you aren't going to believe me, but I really can't talk about it right now. I'm going down to my mom's in Harrisburg, and I might have to go all the way to Philadelphia before the day's over. It's just some personal stuff that I have to take care of," she sighed, "and I promise I'll tell you all the boring details as soon as I can, okay"  
"Mysterious," he replied. "I trust you, just be careful. I wish you'd let me come along - that sounds like quite a bit of driving to do today"  
She stepped back slightly. "It will be, but I'll manage. I'll be at my mother's for a little while, so at least the drive will get broken up"  
"What time will you be back"  
She shrugged. "Not sure, but probably pretty late." She looked up at him, and reached up to touch his cheek. "I see you bothered to shave today," she smiled.  
"Yeah, for all the good it did me this morning," he replied. "There was no one here to appreciate a good close shave"  
She put her hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. "Yeah, that feels smoother," she grinned. "I bet I could get away with a few kisses without any noticeable redness"  
"Feel free to test your theory," he replied.  
"Well, only in the name of research," she said.  
"Why else would you want to?" he teased.  
"Just shut up now, Halpert, and kiss me before someone walks in"  
He was more than happy to oblige, and relieved that today's chaos had not been because something was wrong between them. Pam's response made it clear things were more than fine.  
Jim headed back to his desk fifteen minutes later, while Pam headed into the kitchen for a much-needed pot of tea. Jim was aware that she spend most of her morning fielding phone calls for Michael and listening to him talk about the hot Jamaican sand and what the word 'inclusive' meant when you were staying at a Sandals resort. It was past eleven-thirty before she even spoke to him again.  
bPB:/b I'm going to be leaving in about twenty minutes.  
bJH:/b Sure you won't take me with you? I swear I'll be good.  
bPB:/b Sorry, not this time.  
bJH:/b Nice, leave me here with the loudest of Bob Marley's Wailers.  
bPB:/b Clever. Want to walk me out to my car?  
bJH:/b I was planning on it. Meet me at the elevator at noon then?  
bPB:/b I'm there.  
When they met at the elevator Pam's eyes were sparkling and she was clearly having a hard time holding back a smile. "What?" Jim asked, his lips curling up in amusement at her expression.  
The bell rung and the doors opened. "Just get in the elevator," she said under her breath. As the doors shut, Pam whooped with laughter.  
She was shaking so hard from laughter that Jim grabbed her arm to steady her. "What?? Tell me, Beesly!" She pulled her hand out of her pocket, holding what looked like a brown disk. "Look what Michael gave me as I was leaving," she said between giggles.  
"What is it"  
Pam held it up by it's brown cords in both hands. "A coconut bra," she announced, rolling her eyes at Jim. The elevator came to a stop at that moment, and she folded it up into her hand as they walked out.  
Jim broke out into a big grin. "That is wonderful," he said as they exited the building. "You really need to wear that in tomorrow"  
"I don't think so," she replied, putting it back into her pocket.  
"Oh, but you HAVE to"  
She looked up at him. "Maybe in your dreams, Halpert"  
He put his arm around her shoulders as they walked to her car. "Oh, most definitely in my dreams, Beesly," he said into her ear. At her car they embraced again, and Jim kissed her forehead. "Please call me during your trip so I know how you're doing, okay?" he asked. "Absolutely," she replied. "I will call and have you entertain me when I'm getting bored of driving"  
"Not a problem," he smiled. "I'll have Michael's Big Book of Jokes waiting by my side"  
"Great," she replied, and then Jim felt her stiffen up in his arms.  
"What's wrong"  
She shook her head. "Oh, nothing. Roy just walked across the parking lot down there. I think he saw us"  
Jim turned his head and looked over the roof of Pam's car. Sure enough Roy was walking away from one of the dumpsters, looking right in their direction. Jim looked back to Pam, put his hand under her chin and deliberately kissed her as passionately as he could. He knew he was being completely childish, but he couldn't resist just one chance to show Roy that she belonged to him now. He knew better than to pretend that Pam wouldn't know what he was doing, and was pleased when she brought her hands up to his face and neck and kissed him back. There was no way Roy could have missed the fact that their kiss was completely consensual. When Jim lifted his head, he could see that Roy was gone. He looked down at Pam, who seemed quite amused.  
"Did it make you feel better to pull such a scene?" She asked, a smile faintly visible.  
Jim thought a moment. "Yeah, I'd have to say it did, actually." They both laughed and hugged once more. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow," Pam said, getting into her car and rolling down the window. "Well, you're always welcome to stop over when you get back," Jim couldn't help but offer. He did not want to think he'd be apart from her for nearly twenty hours.  
"We'll see," she said. "But I will call you later"  
"Okay then," Jim replied. He leaned into her open window and gave her one more kiss. "Drive carefully," he said seriously.  
"Yes, Dad," Pam grinned. 

He watched her car leave and as he walked back to the entrance, he saw Roy taking something else out to the dumpster. Jim walked slowly, wondering if Roy would look at him again. He didn't know why he was putting himself in jeopardy of a confrontation. Maybe he just wanted to make it clear to Roy that he had no chance of ever winning Pam back; Jim would do his best to make certain she never saw that as an option. In the end Roy did look back up at him, and his pace slowed. But Roy just walked back into the warehouse, and Jim made his way back to the office.  
Jim ate his lunch at his desk, and set up a few important sales calls for next week. He thought he would get more work done with Pam not there to chat to online, but the time he spent wondering how she was doing probably slowed him down even more. A distraction in the form of Parma and his next gift box arrived sometime after two.  
With no one at reception, Parma just walked right to his desk. "Hey, Jim," she said, "Delivery time"  
"Hey there, Parma," he smiled. "Running a little late today, aren't you"  
"Eh, as long as I get it to you on the correct day you can't complain," she smiled. Jim was signing the clipboard sheet when Kelly came out of the kitchen and headed toward Ryan's desk. "Parma?" Kelly said. "Oh my God, what are you doing here??" Kelly ran over to her and gave her a big hug. "I haven't seen you in forever! Why are you here? Do you know Jim? Jim, this is my friend Parma - we used to live on the same street when we were growing up and we took dance classes together when we were younger. Parma was so totally graceful and I could barely remember the steps"  
Jim smiled benignly at Kelly, aware that today had just become his lucky day. "Yes, Parma and I have met. Several times. Well, nine times as of today"  
Parma nodded. "It's good to see you, Kelly. How are your parents"  
"Oh, they're okay," Kelly said with a wave of her hand. "So do you have a boyfriend now? This is my boyfriend Ryan," she said, walking back around to Ryan's desk to give him an awkward hug. Ryan looked up and acknowledged Parma with a small and obviously embarrassed head nod. "Isn't he the cutest?" Kelly asked.  
"You're very lucky," Parma said diplomatically. "Well, I better go. It was good to see you again, Kelly." She looked over at Jim. "See you tomorrow"  
Jim gave her a wave. "Tomorrow it is then"  
When Parma left Jim picked up his phone to call Pam and tell her about the surprise Kelly/Parma connection. But then he remembered that Pam was the last person he was supposed to share this information with. He felt a little frustrated that there was no one to talk to about it. Still, it has been several hours since Pam left, so he thought he'd give her a call anyway.  
He was surprised to get her voice mail, and resigned himself to just leaving her a message. "Hey Beesly, how's it all going? I suspect you must be either at your mom's or just about there, so why don't you give me a call when you've stopped for your break. Oh, and Parma just arrived with my Ninth Day of Christmas present. You'll have to call me to find out what I got. Talk to you later, I hope"  
Kelly was still at Ryan's desk, so Jim decided to quiz Kelly about Parma later. In the meantime he wanted to open up his latest present. It was a small rectangular box, so he knew the strippers were out. He opened the box and found instead a dvd and an envelope. Well, two envelopes including the stained glass ornament. The dvd was Strictly Ballroom, an Australian movie by Baz Luhrmann made in the early 90s. He though he had seen it once, as the cover looked familiar. The envelope with it turned out to be a certificate for six free dance lessons at Vince Brust Studios, over on Dunmoor Street. He laughed because he knew exactly where this place was - it's large marquee outside its studio door could not be missed. He felt a little trepidatious at the thought of going to dance lessons, but then he noticed that the certificate said that a dance partner could join for free. He knew exactly which dance partner he had in mind. Suddenly the idea didn't seem half bad.  
The stained glass ornament was full of dark purples and iridescent pinks and whites as the image of three lines of ballerinas could be discerned in the patterns of the glass. I've never held you close and danced, the message read, yet I hear music whenever you're near. Let me have that chance.  
The idea of dancing wasn't one he often thought about, mostly because he lacked that critical rhythm gene to know where to put his feet when. But he had to admit that the idea of being out on a dance floor with Pam was a pretty convenient excuse to hold her close in front of everyone. He couldn't imagine such a situation arising anytime soon though, unless Phyllis's wedding materialized soon. He wondered if dancing in the privacy of one's own living room counted. That he would be open to at anytime.  
It wasn't until nearly four that Jim found the chance to talk to Kelly. He filled his empty water bottle in the kitchen, then walked back to Kelly's desk. He couldn't remember the last time he had to be back in that area, but he was pretty sure Kelly's desk had even more pink fluffy things on it than before.  
"Hey Kelly," he said casually, leaning against the wall near her desk.  
"Hey Jim, what's up?" Kelly smiled. "I know I've already said this, but it is really so awesome that you back. You've raised the cuteness factor of this office way over the top again, but I'm sure you know that. I mean all you have to do is look around"  
Jim just shook his head. There wasn't anything you could really say to that, was there? "Hey, so you know Parma, huh"  
"Oh yeah, I've known her and her family for years." Kelly replied. "I mean, I know that probably sounds very racist, like all Indians must know each other, but we really do - we played with Barbies and stuff in my room when we were like 10, and we would have gone to high school together but Parma's family was really into their daughters getting private education. My mom thought the Nagra's were always kinda of snooty, but Parma and her older sister were like my best friends up until then"  
"So you haven't seen her lately then"  
"Well, she and her family were at the big Diwali festival - oh, but you weren't back then, were you? I took Ryan and everyone from the office went. That's when Michael proposed to Carol! Oh yeah, so I see her every once in a while"  
"Where does Parma work?" Jim asked, trying to make it sound like he didn't really care.  
"You know, I'm not totally sure. I remember her talking about her dad being upset that she was studying art and art history, because he didn't think that was the type of career that makes money. She's always been way into art. Not like painting and drawing, but more like making things out of clay and glass and stuff"  
"Oh, right - that sounds interesting." Jim said. "Well, I better get back to work. Thanks, Kelly"  
"Sure, Jim," she replied. "Oh! And if you wanted to know more about her, I'd ask Pam"  
"Why?" Jim asked, suddenly very interested in what she had to say. "Because they're friends, silly. I mean, they're both into art and they were hanging out together at the Diwali festival. I think they might even have classes together"  
"Great," Jim smiled. "I'll have to remember to ask Pam about that."

There was an icy rain starting to fall by the time Jim was getting in his car to drive home, and he wondered where Pam was. He called her cell phone before leaving the parking lot, but only reached her voice mail again. "Hey Pam, it's Jim," he said. "I hope everything is going okay for you. When you get a chance can you give me a call? I'm just thinking about you and want to know you're doing okay. Thanks"  
He drove home, made a light dinner and tried to watch television, but he was too preoccupied with why he hadn't heard from Pam yet. He was trying not to make a big deal about it, but it didn't seem right that she hadn't called him. He spent some time at this computer to pass the time, downloading some new music and doing a people search for the name Parma Nagra. By eight o'clock he was thinking of having a beer or two, but knew that it would just heighten his paranoia that she'd run into some trouble somewhere. He was tempted to go over to her house. He had no idea what that would accomplish if she wasn't there, but he was really beginning to worry. "Hey, It's me again," he said to her voice mail, "I'm sure everything's fine with you, but I'm a little worried that you haven't called. Call me back and tell me how stupid I am for making such a big thing about it." He paused for a moment. "I've really missed you today, Pam"  
At ten o'clock Jim was lying on his couch, flipping channels again and wishing he could just fall asleep. He'd had his cell phone in his hand all evening, and every time he remembered it was there he'd activate the menu to make sure that it was still working and that he hadn't somehow missed a message. His concern was starting to melt into annoyance. Surely she could have found a way to call him. She promised she would, didn't she? Minutes later Jim heard the front door bell ring. He dropped the remote as well as his phone and shot to the front door. Outside, standing in the still falling cold rain, was a very frazzled looking Pam Beesly.  
"Hey, get in here," Jim said, all irritation dissolved at the sight of her. Pam stepped inside, wrapped her arms around him and started to cry. "I'm sorry I couldn't call you," she said, bursting into tears again.  
She was damp and cold and the closest thing Jim could find was his denim jacket hanging on the rack on the wall. He wrapped it around here and held her close. "It's okay, I was just worried about you. And where is your coat"  
"It's in the car, Dad," she laughed briefly, then sniffed in a very un-ladylike fashion that only endeared her to him more. "My phone stopped working early this afternoon, and I - well, it's been a really, really long day." She stepped back, wiping her face with the back of her hand and smoothing her damp hair back off her face. "I got all your messages about thirty minutes ago, and I just had to come see you." She sniffed again, and attempted a smile. "I hope that was okay"  
Jim smiled affectionately at her. "Yeah, that was okay," he replied. "Can I get you something? Tea? Dinner"  
She shook her head, "No, I should go. I just wanted to see you. I, um, well," she seemed to be fighting to find the right words. "When I heard all of your messages today, one right after another, I thought how lucky I was to have you back in my life. Like this. How you've not be afraid to show how much you care about me, even given what we've been through in the past"  
"Of course I care about you, Pam," Jim interrupted. "Please," she said, "let me just say this"  
Jim nodded and wondered why she looked so serious. "And my reaction to your concern and attention and affection - not just today's, but all this time, was that I haven't said the one thing I should have said a long time ago. The one thing I think you really should know"  
"Pam - " Jim said, feeling a strange tingling in his stomach. He felt a little lightheaded with the way her speech was heading. She looked up at him, her eyes looking bright despite the darkness of hallway. "I love you, Jim," she said, her voice sounding heavy with emotion. "I love you so much"  
Jim felt absolutely speechless. It shouldn't have shocked him as much as it did, much, given the way their relationship had been growing, but it did. He just hadn't been willing to let himself get his hopes this high. Not yet, anyway. And still there she was, surprising him once again.  
She reached up and kissed him softly before he had a chance to put together some sort of reply. Words lost, he did know how to respond with his body. He practically cocooned her in his embrace, returning her kiss with a certainty that told her she had just given him everything he had ever wanted. When their lips parted, he rested his forehead against hers. "Thank you," he said, closing his eyes. "There were times I feared I would never hear you say that"  
"I know," she replied, bringing her hands up to touch his face. "and I'm sorry. I've loved you longer than I can remember"  
He nodded slightly, feeling his eyes starting to water. "I'll be holding you to that, Beesly," he replied, trying to say something to prevent himself from completely breaking down. "You better," she whispered, kissing him again.  
Jim moved to kiss her neck. "Do you want to stay here tonight?" Pam sighed at his touch, "No, I can't," she replied, her body clearly at odds with her decision.  
"Why not?" He brought his hands up to her shoulders and peeled off his denim jacket, throwing it onto the floor. He quickly followed it with her cardigan, still damp from the rain. He moved his fingers to the front of her blouse, unbuttoning her top button as he kissed her neck again.  
She took a step back and Jim felt her shiver. "Not tonight," she said softly, her hand coming up to cover his. "I-I want it to be right." She grinned and looked down. "I'm not exactly at my best right now," she said, reaching up to tuck a damp curl behind her ear. Jim pulled her back to him. "You're absolutely beautiful right now," he told her. "But okay"  
She sighed again. "I should probably go home. It's already so late"  
He had no intention of letting her go so quickly. "You have to at least stay and see what gifts I received today"  
She gave a short laugh. "From your True Love"  
"Of course"  
"Okay," she said, giving him a squeeze.  
She followed him into the living room, where the box sat opened by the couch. He sat down, and she collapsed down next to him. "I'm am so tired," she complained, taking the barrette out of her hair and running her hands through her hair. She was about to put the barrette in when she noticed Jim staring at her.  
"What"  
He shook his head. "Nothing." He reached down and grabbed the white box.  
"You were staring at me, Halpert. You might as well say it. I know I look like hell." She pulled her hair back, about to secure it with her clip.  
Jim put his hand up to hers. "Don't. I like your hair down"  
She dropped her hands, letting her hair fall back around her shoulders. "Okay"  
He looked at her a moment longer, then cleared his throat and turned his attention to the box. "It would appear," he grinned, "that my true love has some serious doubts about my ability to dance." He pulled out the dvd and the dance lesson certificate. The smile she gave him when she saw them lit up her face. "I guess they do know you well, huh"  
"Hey, that's not fair, Beesly," Jim gave her a hurt look. "You've never even seen me dance"  
"That's very true," Pam nodded. She pointed to the middle of the living room. "Well, feel free to convince me otherwise"  
Jim suddenly stood up. "No, I've got a much better idea. Wait here." Jim ran upstairs to his computer. While he was waiting for Pam to call, he'd done some reading up on the Strictly Ballroom movie. He found a few of the songs available on iTunes and had downloaded them. He'd listened to one of them, the apparent "love theme" more than a few times already tonight. He grabbed his iPod and headed back downstairs.  
He turned on his stereo and plugged in his iPod. "Get up, Beesly," he said to her.  
She looked up at him. "What are you doing"  
He offered his hand to her. "Get up, please"  
She smiled and took his hand. When he had her on her feet, he hit play. "Dance with me," he said. She walked to him with a bemused look on her face as the music started. "What is this"  
"It's a song from today's dvd," he said, jerking his head toward the couch. "It's a very interesting remake of Cyndi Lauper's Time After Time"  
They stood together, her hands locked behind his neck, hers around her waist. They grinned at each other, and Jim thought feeling foolish wasn't always a bad thing.  
"We really are more swayers than dancers," he said. "Hence the need for lessons, I guess." "Shut up and dance, Beesly," he grinned, kissing her.  
iIf you're lost you can look and you will find me Time after time If you fall I will catch you Ill be waiting Time after time/i When Jim walked Pam out to her car, it was no longer raining. He held her hand as if he could prevent her leaving by just a touch. She opened her car door with her other hand, and started to pull her hand from his.  
He held her hand tighter, his eyes never leaving hers. "I never stopped loving you," he said.  
She closed her eyes and nodded, squeezing his hand. "Thank you"  
"Stay," he said simply.  
"Soon," she replied, kissing his hand before letting it go. "Soon."

strictly ballroom and dancing lessons. 


	10. On The Tenth Day of Christmas

Jim turned off the alarm after the second snooze alert went off. He knew it was sometime after six, and he knew he should get out of bed. But he hadn't slept much last night, his late night conversation with Pam playing in his head over and over. It was that night before Christmas sleeplessness, where you feel so excited about things that were coming that you felt every minute pass like it was an hour. He'd finally fallen into a deep sleep sometime after four, and now felt terribly out of sync.

His cell phone rang. He grabbed it off his dresser, thinking that there was only one person he wanted to talk to at such an early hour. He glanced at his caller ID, and answered.

"Hey," he said, his voice distinctly husky from lack of sleep.

"What are you doing?" Pam asked, her voice sounding deeper as well. 

"You'd know that if you had stayed," he replied. Her voice sounded like sex, and he couldn't help but feel a physical reaction to her.

She laughed, and he could feel it. Her effect on him was practically criminal. "Then tell me what I'm missing," she teased back.

"God, Beesly," Jim groaned. "I'm not sure I'm awake enough to keep this up."

"Keep what up?" she asked innocently. "I just called to see if you planned on going into work early today."

"Depends if someone is going to bother to show up or not."

"I've already apologized for yesterday at least a dozen times," she replied. "What more do you want from me?"

"What are you offering?"

"I guess you'll have to meet me in the break room this morning and find out." He could picture the look on her face and knew today was going to be another good day. 

"I'll be in that break room by seven-fifteen," he promised.

Jim walked into the office at seven-ten. He hung his coat next to Pam's and headed straight back to the break room. She was sitting calmly at one of the tables, drinking some tea and leaving through a copy of Entertainment Weekly. He slid sideways into the seat next to her, one arm resting along the chair back, the other resting elbow bent along the table. She glanced up at him, but said nothing.

"Well?" he asked.

"Well what?" she replied, her eyes still on the magazine. She was fidgeting with her necklace, running the heart charm over her chin.

He pulled his chair closer to hers, his legs stretched out away from the table. He rested his hand over the center of the magazine. "I'm here five minutes earlier than I said I would be."

She looked up at the clock, and then at Jim. "So you are." There was a sparkle in her eyes that said she was playing with him.

He tilted his face closer to hers. Close enough he could feel her breath on his lips. "I believe you owe me restitution for standing me up yesterday morning."

He saw her lower lip quiver slightly, and she bit it to maintain her composure. "Restitution?" she whispered, lifting her head up towards him. "As in money?"

"I was thinking as in flesh," he replied. He saw the corners of her mouth turn up and knew he had broken her self-control. As her laugh began to escape, he pressed his lips against hers, and was rewarded with her mouth opening beneath his. Her arms came up, running her hands along his arms to his shoulders and then behind his neck. Jim pressed his hands to her waist, brushing her cardigan aside and running his fingers along the inside of the waist band of her skirt. She responded by sliding onto his lap and deeping her kiss. He could feel her tracing circles on the back of his neck with her nails, and the sensation set every nerve in his body on alert. He tugged her blouse out from her skirt, and pushed it up so he could touch the warm, soft skin of her back. He stroked the skin along her ribcage until his fingertips reached the satin underside of her bra. He felt her gasp when his thumbs brushed her nipples, and the way she arched against his touch only served to make him harder. He was vaguely aware that they weren't exactly in the most ideal place to take it any farther, but that fact alone didn't seem like a good enough reason to stop. The sound of Michael's voice, however, brought the proceedings to a crashing halt. 

"Good morning, people," Jim heard Michael bellow from somewhere in the vicinity of the reception desk. "I know you guys are here somewhere, or else you left your cars and coats behind last night."

Pam pulled away immediately and sat back down on her chair. "Shit," she swore, which made Jim laugh softly. She looked at him and couldn't help but laugh either.

"Do I have any discriminating marks?" he asked. 

"No," she replied after a quick once over. "I did remember to leave off the lipstick."

"Good, I'll go sacrifice myself to buy you a little more time," he leaned over and quickly kissed her temple. "We'll discuss later when we can continue your repayment."

Jim straightened his tie as he walked back toward the front of the office. He'd always knew that Michael was capable of being a complete buzz kill, but the fact that Jim's erection had nearly completely disappeared just by the sound of his voice seemed almost impressive. Jim had to remember to share the humor with Pam; he didn't think Michael would find it nearly as funny. He smiled at the very idea of that he could tell Pam such things now. He thought the term 'best friends with benefits' seemed to be the very definition of what was happening between them. Despite the dark days they'd both experienced, they'd managed to somehow hang on to their connection. And now it was just the touchstone for everything else - and everything else couldn't seem to get here quick enough for Jim.

Michael was in his office when Jim saw him. "Hey," Jim said, leaning his hands across the door frame. "Did you need something?"

"Hey, Jimbo - come on in and sit down. I just noticed that your coat and car were already here, so I wanted to make sure you were here, too." Michael attempted to peer past Jim. "Actually, where's Pam?" Michael looked at Jim and a very lecherous grin suddenly spread over Michael's face. "Let me guess - you guys were having sex in the back, weren't you? Please tell me you were using Toby's desk." 

Jim shifted in his chair. He didn't even get a chance to confirm or deny the question. "I knew it!" Michael yelled happily. "I knew it was only a matter of time once you came back. You finally wore her down, hmmm? Well, That's What She Said!"

Jim rolled his eyes. "No, Michael, you're wrong - "

"No need to thank me, My Second in Command, it's my job it keep my employees happy. And sometimes that includes making sure they are having sex with each other. See, I told you never to give up."

"Michael, Pam and I are not having sex," Jim said, aware that in that particular place in time he was completely telling the truth. 

"You know that Jan and I are having sex now, don't you?" 

Jim nodded. "Yes, you made that quite clear yesterday."

"So what's holding you and Pam back? I can tell she wants to. She's probably aching for it - I mean, she dumped Roy months ago. Now is definitely time to make the move. Do you want me to help?"

"No." Jim's response came out more forcefully than he intended, but Michael was just making him crazy. "Everything is under control. But thank you."

Michael smiled. "No problem, glad I could help."

Pam was at her desk with her head down when Jim left Michael's office. He booted up his computer, looking forward to sharing his miscommunications with Michael. He glanced back at her as he waited to log in, and caught her staring at him. He gave her a grin, and was surprised to see her blush and look down. Interesting, he thought.

bJH:/b Beesly, what are you thinking?

bPB:/b Nothing, why?

bJH:/b I saw you blush just now.

bPB:/b No you didn't.

bJH:/b Yes, you did. I caught you looking at me, and you blushed. Now I want to know what impure thoughts you were harboring about me.

bPB:/b How do you know I harbor impure thoughts about you?

bJH:/b I don't, obviously. But I can hope. ;-)

bPB:/b What did Michael want?

bJH:/b Nothing. He asked me if we were having sex on Toby's desk this morning.

bPB:/b !

bJH:/b I told him we weren't.

bPB:/b I should hope not!

bJH:/b I said we preferred the table in the break room.

He heard a spluttered laugh behind him.

bJH:/b So admit it, you were lusting after me when I walked out of Michael's office.

bPB:/b Hmm. Maybe.

bJH:/b And what about me struck your fancy this morning?

bPB:/b Oh, there's just so much to choose from. I couldn't begin to make a list.

bJH:/b Sure you could.

bPB:/b You do know that people can read your monitor when they walk past? I can almost read your screen from here.

bJH:/b Your point being?

bPB:/b I'm not sure I want someone else watching this conversation.

bJH:/b Now I know you're just stalling. What made you blush?

bPB:/b I'll tell if you return the favor.

bJH:/b What do you mean?

bPB:/b I'll tell you one thing I like about you, and then you have to tell me one thing you like about me. Specific things. Physical things.

bJH:/b Ah, so you were lusting after me.

bPB:/b Are you in or should I just go back to Sudoku?

bJH:/b Sure. Bring It.

bPB:/b Okay, I guess you want me to go first.

bJH:/b Quit stalling, Beesly.

bPB:/b Your hands.

bJH:/b What about them?

Jim was denied an immediate answer as the office door opened and Parma entered. Jim spun around in his chair, greeting her.

"Hey, Parma," he said. "I don't recall you ever being this early."

"I thought I'd be kind and put you out of your misery," she replied. "I know you're always on the edge of your seat until I arrive."

He grinned. "You know me too well. What's today? Ten lords a-leaping?"

"No idea," she replied. "I just deliver them."

"Right, of course." Jim noticed out of the corner of his eye that Pam was watching the whole exchange rather closely. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow then." Parma nodded. "Yep. See you tomorrow." She acknowledged Pam with a nod on her way out the door.

Jim wasted no time in opening the medium-sized rectangle box. He saw Pam leaning over her desk to try and see what was inside. He turned his back to her, pretending as if he didn't want her to see. She knows what it is anyway, he thought. Let her work for it.

"Hey," he heard her call.

He turned back to her. "Yes?"

"Let me see," she complained.

"Do you mind? I'm trying to have a private moment with my True Love." He twisted back around to his desk, enjoying the look of pique on Pam's face at his reply.

He opened the box and found another inside. The name brand on the lid caught his attention; it really couldn't be that - could it? He opened it, and sat back in shock. She was something else. He leaned forward again, and pulled out his new pair of red Converse high tops. Authentic Chuck Taylors. He checked the size on the sole; she'd even got his size correct: eleven and a half. Not everyone knew that Converse tended to run small. He knew what he had to do. He dropped them to the floor, slipped off his loafers and laced up the high tops. They fit perfect. He pushed his chair away from his desk and turned to face Pam, crossing his legs as he did so. Her face lit up when she saw his new red Converse.

"Oh my God, those are awesome!" She beamed.

"Yeah, they are pretty cool, aren't they?" He replied. "My true love is really outdoing herself."

"Or himself," Pam corrected. "Come around here so I can see them better."

Jim got up and walked around the reception counter. He sat down on the edge of her desk and rested one foot on the edge of her wastebasket.

"Wow, those go so well with your suit," she grinned.

"I was thinking the same thing, actually," he said. "This could be the new face of business attire."

"They do become you," she said. "They really, really do."

"I was thinking, Beesly," Jim said. "You're going to have to start coming up with something pretty enticing to stand a chance against my True Love."

"Oh, really?" She said. "I suppose you have some ideas on how I could compete?"

"As a matter of fact," he said, putting his foot back down on the floor, "I do."

"I'm listening," she replied, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Well, the way I see it, you have until Saturday to stake your claim, so to speak," he said, his voice dropping a little lower so only she could hear him. "So, it might be in your best interest to have that "soon" you mentioned last night arrive before then."

She pushed him off her desk with a good amount of force. "Get out of here, you pervert," she whispered, unable to hold back a laugh. "Maybe I'll just take my chances."

"I'm just saying," he replied as he walked back to his desk. The look she shot him was priceless. Her mock irritation always resulted in her lips forming the most perfect little pout, and he was very hard pressed not to just lean over her desk and kiss her right there. God, he loved to tease her. He always had. Even in the very beginning of their friendship she had proven she could take a joke. She could give just as good as she got, and heaven knows how many times her rebuttals had simply leveled him. The fact that he was able to push that teasing into a whole new spectrum of undertone and nuance, of innuendo that could actually be back up by action, well that was pretty heady stuff to Jim. He couldn't imagine every running out of things to say to her.

Jim had made about an hour's worth of sales calls and follow-up reports when he remembered that he still had the day's envelope to open. The ornament was of a man, dressed perhaps in medieval clothing, with harlequined pants and matching jacket, captured in a grand leap. His clothes were red and purple, and the background was a mix of yellows and oranges. His hat had a dark blue feather, represented by a crescent of sapphire crinkle glass. 

iMy heart leaps whenever I see you walk into the room. My imagination leaps at the thought of what we will do together, be together - not just tonight, or tomorrow - but always./i

Two more days, he thought. And the only reason he wanted it to end was so she could explain to him every reason for every single thing she sent him. That and how she managed to keep so straight faced. Because her lack of confession, her ability to seem surprised by the gifts, these things still pecked at his confidence. He'd been teasing her about his True Love as a way to break down her facade, but it hadn't worked. And felt a cold knot in his stomach at the very thought that this all wasn't from her. It just couldn't be true.

bJH:/b Do you want to know what message I received from my True Love today?

bPB:/b Not particularly.

bJH:/b We didn't get a chance to finish the game we started earlier.

bPB:/b As I recall we never got started.

bJH:/b Yes we did. You were going to say something about my hands.

bPB:/b I don't remember what I was going to say.

Jim frowned. 

bJH:/b Are you upset with me?

bPB:/b No.

bJH:/b Then what's wrong?

bPB:/b Nothing. I'm tired and the day feels like it's barely begun. I feel like I'm getting a cold and I just want to go to bed and sleep. I guess if I get sick your True Love will win without an argument.

The light dawned. Jim understood where her mood change had really come from.

bJH:/b I was just teasing you, Pam. You honestly don't think you have anything to worry about do you?

bPB:/b I don't know. I'm guess just tired.

Had he not had years to perfect the "cheering up Pam" technique, this conversation could have quickly escalated into an argument. This was the classic 'Things don't feel fine but I'm going to pretend they are - please see through it and remind me I'm loved.' He hoped someday she'd realize that she just had to ask for reassurance, as it was always available.

bJH:/b Shall we meet upstairs for a nap at lunch?

bPB:/b And how would that work?

bJH:/b I have my ways. I'll bring a blanket and you can nap. No one will be the wiser. 

bPB:/b I admit it sounds tempting.

bJH:/b It's done then. We'll sneak up just before noon. That's less than an hour away.

bPB:/b Thanks.

bJH:/b Still love me?

bPB:/b I'll tell you after my nap.

He smiled. The things he did for her. And the things he was still looking forward to doing.

Shortly before noon they easily escaped up to the top landing of the stairwell, and Jim brought the wool blanket he kept in the back seat of his car. Unfortunately any hopes Jim may have had of picking back up from when they were disturbed this morning were quickly dashed as Pam took him at his word and actually had a nap. He had leaned up against the wall across from the metal rung roof ladder, legs stretched out before him. Pam cuddled up close, pretty much on his lap actually, and almost immediately feel asleep. It wasn't an unpleasant experience at all, but Jim started to worry that perhaps she really was coming down with something. He let her sleep for nearly forty-five minutes, and by the time they headed back downstairs Jim's legs were aching from his role as living mattress and pillow to Pam. But despite his slight limp, he knew he'd do it again in a heartbeat.

The nap must have done her good, for despite the tedium of the afternoon, Jim found her smiling again. He walked over to her desk as people were starting to clean off their desks and head home.

"Feeling better then?" He asked.

She nodded. "I could use more sleep, but I'm much better. Thanks."

Jim traced the non-existent pattern on the counter. "So, what are your plans for tonight?" He found it hard not to still feel a little nervous when trying to make plans with her. He looked forward to the day when he could take such questions for granted, because it would just be assumed they would be leaving together.

"Nothing really," she replied. "I think I'll just take a hot bath, watch some tv and get an early night."

Jim tried to hide his disappointment, but he expected he wasn't doing too well. "You don't want to go get some dinner or something?"

"Um, actually I was hoping for a night in to get a little tidying up done, because I wanted to ask you over for dinner tomorrow."

"Oh," Jim replied, feeling slightly better.

"Yeah," Pam said, keeping her eyes on his. "I thought maybe we could make it a movie marathon night. You know, you could bring your pajamas and we could stay up all night. I've been meaning to view the entire Star Wars series to date."

He grinned. "All six episodes?"

"Sure, why not?"

"Okay, we can do that." Jim remained there, feeling a bit awkward. Given how the morning had started off, he was confused as to why she seemed a bit distant now. Or maybe he was just being overeager. He couldn't help it - he just wanted to be with her. "When are you heading out?"

She glanced at the clock. "In about fifteen minutes. Why?"

"Just wondered," he shrugged. He looked at her and saw her grinning. "What?"

"I'm just giving you a hard time. You think I don't plan on walking out with you?"

"Hard to tell with you today, Beesly."

"I'm an enigma wrapped in a mystery, Halpert." She stood up, shutting off her monitor. She looked around the office and saw that only Phyllis and Creed were still around. She leaned forward, putting her hands on her desk and her face mere inches from his. "But you can be sure I always look for an opportunity to kiss you," she smiled. 

"That sounds like a very good rule to live by, Beesly," he smiled back. "Care to put it into action now?"

Jim agreed to let Pam leave for home only after several long embraces punctuated by kisses that ranged from tender to playful to hot enough to want to follow her home, despite her pleas to the contrary. He made her promise to call later, and went home looking forward to finally seeing her new apartment tomorrow.

Jim had made the most of his free evening by doing laundry and playing video games on the television upstairs. When the telephone rang at nine, he hoped it was Pam and picked up the extension in his bedroom.

"Hey," he greeted her, flopping onto his bed. "What's up?"

"Not much," she replied. "You said you wanted me to call you."

"Did you get your apartment fixed up for our date tomorrow?"

"I tidied it up some, yeah. But it's not a date, it's an overnight movie marathon."

"And how is that different from a date?"

She paused. "I guess I just don't like that word?"

"Date? Why?"

"It sounds so, I don't know - temporary. Encapsulated. Like there's some boundary of time when we are on a date and when we aren't. We spend so much time together that it all sorts of blends together for me." Pam sighed. "I'm probably not making much sense."

"No, I think I understand what you are saying. Dates are like job interviews - do we get along, to we have things in common, etc."

"Yes! Exactly. Thank you for getting it. I hope you won't disagree when I feel like we past dates a while ago."

"No, but then what are we?" Jim stretched out his legs and put one arm behind his head as he rested on his pillow. He was very interested in hearing her reply.

She was silent for a minute, and then he heard her giggle. "What's so funny?"

She giggled again. "I was just thinking about your question. I'm not exactly sure where we are, but I'm sitting in the bathtub."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. I'm having my bath right now."

"You called me from the bathtub?"

"Yeah."

"And you are telling me this to purposely put that vision in my mind?"

She laughed again. "Perhaps."

"That's totally unfair, Beesly."

"Why?"

"Because - " Jim tried to think of why it was unfair, but nothing very substantial came to mind. "Because you are being a tease," he said unconvincingly.

"I thought a tease was when you promised something and then didn't deliver."

"Well, exactly. You tell me things like this and yet don't invite me over."

"You don't have to be here in person to make the most of the information," she said slowly. 

Jim didn't quite know what to say to that, but the tone of her voice had changed and his body had picked up on it. "Really," he replied, feeling like suddenly there wasn't enough air in the room. "What exactly do you mean by that?"

"I guess that's up to you." He though he heard the sound of water splashing. "Actually, I think I'm going to get out now."

There was silence on both ends as Jim waited to see what she would say next. "Are you still there?" she finally asked.

"I am," he replied.

"Where you are?" she asked.

"In my bedroom, lying on the bed."

"What are you wearing?" Pam asked.

Jim laughed loudly. "Are you turning this into an obscene phone call, Beesly?"

She giggled again, and it warmed his heart. "No, it's a serious question. I want to picture you as you are right now."

"Um, okay - jeans and that old grey Scranton logo t-shirt."

"Hmm," she murmured. 

"And where are you now?" he asked, keen on knowing where this conversation was going.

"Oh, I've just laid down on my bed, too." 

"And what have you put on?"

"Nothing," she said. 

"Okay," Jim replied, swallowing hard. "Not even a towel?"

"Nope. That reminds me, do you want to go back to your earlier question about what I find attractive about you? I remember my first answer now."

"Sure."

"I'll need you to do me a favor, though."

"And that would be?"

"I think you need to get rid of those clothes you're wearing."

It was certainly not what he expected her to say, and felt a flush go through his body at the thought. "Why?" 

"I just want to know that you are."

"Why don't I come over there instead?"

"Because I want to be able to focus on your voice. I want to make sure you hear me as well. There are things I have wanted to say, but I don't think I could say them if I had to look at you."

"What sorts of things?"

"How you make me feel. Fantasies I've had about us. Haven't you ever had a fantasy about us together?"

"Of course I have."

"Then tell me about it."

Jim was starting to feel uncomfortable in his jeans.

"I thought you were going to start," he said. 

"I will when I know your clothes are off."

Jim still found humor in the situation. "So you're telling me that the first time we are ever naked together we don't even have web cameras?"

She chuckled. "It's better this way."

Jim pulled his shirt over his head and threw it on the floor. "Am I allowed to get under my blankets if it's cold in here?"

"I guess so, Mr. Prude."

"Hold on a minute." He put the phone down on his pillow and unzipped his jeans. He pulled them off and dumped them on the floor, followed quickly by his boxer briefs. His erection was already starting to demand attention and they hadn't even really started talking. He wondered if she knew what she was doing to him. He enjoyed the thought of being able to do the same to her.

"Okay," he said softly.

"One of the things I always notice about you are your hands," she said. "I have very clear memories of how they feel when they are touching me, whether in a caress or a more firm touch."

"Sometimes when I'm looking at your hands, at how long your fingers are, I can imagine them touching me in all sorts of warm places."

"Places like where?" Jim asked, feeling a bit strangled by the tension between them.

"Oh, I have faith in your ability to imagine where I might mean." 

"I wish I could do it now," Jim admitted, his voice dropping lower. He could no longer resist stroking himself at the idea.

"Tomorrow," she whispered.

He though he heard her make a sound, and needed to know what she was doing. "How wet are you right now?" he asked her.

She didn't even pretend to misunderstand him. "Very."

"How do you know that?"

"Because I can feel it."

"I want to feel it," he replied, feeling himself quickly moving toward climax.

"Tomorrow," she whispered again, this time giving a moan that told him what he wanted to know.

"Do you feel good?" he asked

"Yes," she said breathlessly. "Do you?"

"Yes," he moaned. "I want you so much."

He heard her breathing get heavier, coming now in pants, and it was enough to send him over the edge. He said her name out loud, gripping the phone tightly with his free hand. As he felt the room slowly stopping it's spinning, he heard her cry out, and smiled. Then there was silence, followed slowly by the sounds of normal breathing.

"Jim?" Pam said tentatively.

"I'm here."

"That was the first time, I'd ever, um, you know - "

"You mean on the phone?"

"Yeah."

"Me, too."

"Really?" she sounded surprised. "I'm glad."

"Why?"

"It's nice to think I could be your first in something."

He laughed. "You're first in everything for me. I love you, Beesly."

"I love you too." She sighed. "God, I swear that's not the direction I had in mind when I called you."

"You okay?"

"Um, yeah. I think I want to do it again."

Jim laughed. "So now you're telling me your insatiable."

"Think you can handle it?"

"I'll certainly do my best."

"You know what I love most about you though?"

"What?"

"That I know I can trust you enough to be this brave. To share things I'd other be too embarrassed to bring up."

"Can I ask you an important question?" Jim asked.

"Of course, anything."

"Does this mean pajamas will be optional tomorrow night?" 


	11. On The Eleventh Day of Christmas

It was nearing eleven o'clock, and for the third time that morning, Jim received the following IM from Pam:

bPB:/b You don't look sullen enough. Think of spending the rest of your adult life trapped as a salesman for Dunder Mifflin.

Or similar words to that effect. It was Friday, January the Fifth, and it was a special day to Jim. Not only was it the Eleventh Day of Christmas, which meant another gift, but tonight he was spending the evening at Pam's. Dinner and movies were officially planned, and Jim had plenty of suggestions for additional activities. He felt like tonight was going to be the turning point in his relationship with Pam, and he found it extremely hard not to be in a good mood about it. 

The message from Pam was meant as a reminder about today's office visitors. The film crew had sent a skeleton staff in to tape interviews. The filming had stopped right after the Christmas party, and Jim had been enjoying the relative return to privacy. The documentary producers still didn't know if they would have enough money to continue filming into the new year, so they decided to do interviews today to help wrap up loose ends if needed. Pam and Jim had decided the last thing they wanted was for the crew to notice anything different going on, so they did their best to ignore each other. 

Fortunately Jim had remembered the interviews before he and Pam followed their usual schedule of arriving into work early. Instead of risking being caught alone by the crew at the office, he took Pam out for breakfast. While she seemed happy to see him, and kissed him without any hesitation, Pam had seemed reserved and quickly deflected any mention of their long telephone conversation from the previous night. He worried she felt embarrassed about it, but it wasn't a conversation he felt comfortable having in a diner. They drove separately into work, and by the time they arrived at the office, the film crew was already starting. He hadn't yet had the opportunity to talk to her, to hopefully reassure her, and he wanted to do so before tonight.

Jim looked up from his monitor and noticed they were beginning to set Andy up for his interview. Jim had been the first one interviewed, and he knew these things took at least thirty minutes to get finished. He sent a message to Pam.

bJH:/b Let's sneak out for an early lunch. I need to talk to you.

bPB:/b I'm not sure that's such a good idea. We should wait until they leave.

bJH:/b They're already running behind. They're probably going to be here all day.

bPB:/b Can't you just wait until tonight to talk?

bJH:/b No, I've got better plans for tonight than talking.

Jim sent his reply and stood up, walking over to Pam's desk. He was starting not to care what the camera crew noticed. "Hey," he said softly, leaning over the reception counter. He was relieved to see Pam smile at him.

"Hey," she replied. "What's up?"

"I wanted to make sure you're okay," he said.

"Yeah," she replied, looking slightly puzzled at his words. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Jim paused, then decided to just tell her what was bothering him. "You seemed a little distant this morning. I thought you might have been feeling a bit uncomfortable about last night."

Pam looked around the office, then back at Jim. "Can we talk about this somewhere else?"

"That's why I wanted us to go out for lunch."

"Didn't we eat a rather large breakfast not that long ago?" Pam smiled.

Jim shrugged. "Who says we have to eat?"

Pam said nothing for a moment. Finally she reached over to the telephone, pressing the buttons to put it on call forwarding to voice mail. "Okay," she said. "I'll meet you downstairs at your car in a minute."

Jim picked up his coat and walked out of the office. It was turning into a cold, blustery day so he started the car to get it warmed up for Pam. She appeared shortly afterwards, sliding into the passenger's seat and leaning forward to give him a kiss at nearly the exact same time.

"Hello," Jim smiled. "I could get use to entrances like that."

Pam smiled. "Me too."

"Where to?" he asked.

"I don't care," Pam sighed. "Just someplace quiet."

In the end they picked up French fries and drinks through a drive-thru and drove to Scranton Lake. They parked in the big deserted lot overlooking the water, the engine running to keep the car warm. They ate in relative silence, but their glances were numerous and anything but awkward.

"So you're doing okay, then?" Jim finally asked. "I don't want you to feel like I'm pushing us along too quickly."

"Yeah, I'm okay," she replied, moving her hand over to his. "And I don't feel like you're pushing anything. If anything, it's me, isn't it? I called you. I started the conversation." She looked out the front window. "It all probably surprised me as much as you, to be honest. It wasn't like it was something I'd planned - I just started talking to you and, well - you know." She smiled slightly but didn't look at him. "You just do something to me, I guess."

Jim leaned over and kissed her cheek. "Good," he said huskily, nuzzling her skin. "And planned or not, I want you to know you can always trust me. I want you to feel comfortable when we're together. I can wait if I have to."

She turned toward him and pressed her lips to his, her arms coming up around his neck. "I do trust you," she said between kisses. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't. Of course, I still blame you entirely. I just don't do things like that." 

Jim smiled. "You've a wealth of natural talent then. I would have guessed you'd been doing that sort of thing for years."

Pam rested her head against his shoulder. "Shut up."

"It's a compliment, honest." Jim laughed. He brought his hand under her chin and tilted her face up. "You're incredible. And I'm not just talking about last night." He kissed her again. "I really love everything about you. You understand that, don't you? Everything, Pam. You have no reason to ever feel shy or embarrassed around me."

She peered up at him. "So the late night phone calls are just a bonus then? You aren't going to need a steady diet of them to keep you happy?"

"Now let's not be too hasty, I didn't say that..."

Pam laughed. "I thought so." 

"You do what you feel comfortable with, and I'll follow. But I don't really understand why you should feel awkward about it. It's not like - " Jim stumbled, trying to think of the right words. "Pam, we love each other."

She nodded her head. "I know - it's not that it felt wrong as much as I guess I'm just amazed at how easily I lost control. I've never felt like that before. Not with - anyone. Ever. It's a little scary."

"There's nothing wrong with losing control," Jim mused. "Maybe some of the heartache we've both suffered could have been prevented had one of us lost control a long time ago."

"Yeah," she nodded. "But sometimes I'm afraid that this is too good to last. I'm feeling too happy, things are going too well, that maybe I love you too much..."

"Don't." Jim cut her off. "Don't think like that. We deserve this. We've earned the right to be happy as much as anyone."

"I know," she sighed. "But when you've wanted something for so long, and it finally arrives..."

Jim laughed. "Yeah, I think I've been there."

"Of course you do," she replied. She sat quietly, looking at her hands now resting in her lap. She finally looked over at him. "So I didn't shock you last night?"

"Get out of the car, Beesly."

"What? Why?"

"Just do it." Jim opened his door and stepped outside. Pam followed and met him at the front of his car. "I can't properly hold you sitting inside the car," he explained, wrapping his arms around her. He kept his head down near hers, so she could hear him speaking. "And as for your question, shock isn't the word I would use."

"what word would you use then?"

"Surprised, but grateful."

"Grateful?"

He looked into her eyes. "It meant everything to me." When he moved to kiss her, he was taken aback by the ferocity of her response. It was as if he'd given the magic words that turned her tentativeness back into longing for him. They stayed wrapped up in each other until the winds were too much for Pam's uncovered legs and Jim could feel her starting to shiver.

"Come on," he said to her, "Let's drag ourselves back to work and get this day over with."

If their disappearance together was noticed, nothing was said. But as soon as Pam walked in she was told she was needed for interviewing. Jim sat back down at this desk, trying very hard to remember what it was he was supposed to do with all the papers in front of him. He had no illusions about his ability to work today; it just wasn't going to happen. There were just too many important things on his mind. He saw that Karen had come into the office while he and Pam had been gone. He wondered how she was doing but knew better than to approach her. She seemed to be working, and part of him hoped she wasn't planning on leaving. It was selfish to wish that, he knew, but she was a good person and a good friend. He also had to admit that if she didn't leave, he'd feel less guilty about what happened. He had never directly asked her to move to Scranton to be with him, but her leaving because of him would certainly sting. He pushed the whole dilemma out of his mind and started sorting papers by date and company, pausing occasionally to admire Pam's silhouette against the conference room blinds. He wondered what she was saying, and even more importantly, what she was being careful to hide.

Jim was distracted from the activities in the conference room by the arrival of Parma. 

"Tomorrow's the last day," Jim said as he signed the delivery sheet. "What will you do with all your extra time?"

"Oh, I've been accepted as an intern to the Easter Bunny." Parma replied. "I've got a quite a few weeks of training to get started on."

"Wow. Good luck with that," Jim said.

"Thanks," Parma replied, smiling. "Now be careful, your gift is in two boxes today, and this one is quite heavy."

The longer box she was referring to landed with a bit of a thump on Jim's desk. "Sorry about that," Parma grinned.

"I seriously hope you're insured," Jim said. "I won't accept broken gifts."

"It's fine," Parma replied. "Don't be such a baby." She put the smaller box down. "Have fun tonight, Jim," she said as she walked out of the office.

Jim reached for the heavier box and froze. iWhat did she just say?/i He looked over his shoulder and watched the door closing behind Parma. He jumped up and followed her, catching up with her as she waited at the elevator.

"Parma," Jim called.

She looked up at him expectantly. "Yes?"

"What did you say to me before you walked out?" He watched her face carefully.

"I said 'Have fun'," she replied blankly.

"No, you didn't. You said 'Have fun tonight'."

Parma shrugged. "Did I?"

Jim leaned against the wall. "You did."

She tilted her head. "And is there some reason I shouldn't have specifically wished you fun for tonight? It is the weekend, after all."

The elevator doors opened and Parma stepped in. Jim followed. The doors shut behind them. He peered over at her. "You slipped up just now. Like you did on New Year's Day."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I think you do. You knew Pam's name without being introduced that day. And I'm pretty certain you know about tonight."

Parma didn't say a word. She looked at Jim, frowning ever so slightly. When the doors opened, Parma walked out. Jim grabbed her arm.

She turned back to him. "What do you want me to say?"

"They're from her, aren't they?" He asked.

"Why do you need to know right now? You have only one more day to wait."

He released her arm, and felt his hopes from the past eleven days rise up a bit more. "They are from her," he said, mostly to himself.

"Don't ruin it, Jim," Parma said. 

He looked at her, feeling clearly confused. "How would I ruin it?"

"By having to know everything right now."

"I'm not going to say anything to her," Jim protested.

"Can you do me a favor?" Parma asked.

Jim nodded.

"Just relax, okay? You have no idea how much you're loved." 

She turned and walked out of the building, leaving Jim to feel slightly ashamed for having chased her down. She was right; there was nothing to be gained by demanding answers when the charade would all be over tomorrow. And no matter what unfolded with tomorrow's twelfth gift, tonight was still what really mattered. Hearing it from Parma didn't make it any less true - Pam really was his True Love, no matter who sent the gifts. 

He walked back into the office, and was slightly relieved to see that Pam was still in the conference room. He was hoping he wouldn't have to explain his disappearance. He sat down and opened the large box. He smiled as he lifted out a bottle of Glenlivit 12.

"Nice," Kevin said, walking toward Jim's desk from the copier. "Are we allowed to drink in the office again?"

Jim laughed. "No, it's a gift."

"Wow. Twelve year old single malt scotch whisky? That's some gift. Who's it from? Pam?" Kevin's voice sounded too loud in Jim's ears, but no one else seemed to notice. "You and Pam seemed awfully cozy at my party, if you know what I mean." Jim practically cringed under Kevin's leer and nearly sent him away with the whisky just to shut him up.

"Yeah, we had a nice time," Jim replied, tucking the bottle into his messenger bag. Kevin's eyes followed the whisky, but when he realized Jim was putting it away, he headed back towards his desk.

What I wouldn't give to be able to start drinking that now, Jim thought. It seemed like this day was never going to end. He reached for the second, smaller box, trying to remember what the Eleventh Day even was. He was pretty sure it wasn't eleven men drinking whisky, but that would work for him. He opened the second box, and pulled out a CD and the ornament envelope. One look at the CD and it all made sense to him. It wasn't pleasant, but it made sense. He rested his head in his hand as he read the CD's title: The Bagpipes & Drums of Scotland. Eleven Pipers Piping, of course. He started to laugh, but put his hand to his mouth so as not to draw anymore attention to himself. He wasn't sure he'd even know how to explain this one. He took out the ornament, the one piece of each gift he knew he could expect, and had grown to look forward to. Well, that and the accompanying message. 

As usual, it was another work of art. Reds and greens and golds, with several recorder-like instruments in the center. Jim thought Dwight would appreciate it.

iFor eleven days you've received a gift from your True Love. No doubt you have come to some conclusion as to who I must be. And maybe you're right - maybe you know. Maybe you've known all along. But when you find out for certain tomorrow, will you be my True Love as well?/i

He thought about his conversation with Parma and tucked the note back into the envelope. He watched Pam through the open blinds of the conference room, talking to the camera crew. He couldn't hear her words, but could easily read her emotions. She laughed at something one of them said, and her smile lit up her face. She was so beautiful when she was happy, and as he watched her he felt himself falling in love with her all over again. 

It appeared Pam's interview was finally coming to a close. Jim wondered what questions she'd been asked. He had no doubt that Pam wouldn't reveal anything private, but he knew Stewart, the producer who showed up today, had a knack for wearing people down with his excessive questions. By the time Pam walked out of the conference room more than an hour had passed. Jim watched Pam head straight toward the break area. 

Jim's eyes were glued to the curves of Pam's legs as she walked away from him. In addition to wanting to find out how things went, the thoughts generated watching her movements reminded him that he needed to ask her an important question. He noticed the camera crew were breaking down their equipment for the day, so he slipped away from his desk and followed her.

He found Pam in the kitchen, reaching up in the cupboard for a new bag of sugar as he walked in. "Here let me get that for you," he said, coming up behind her. He pressed up behind her, trapping her momentary between his body and the counter as he reached over her for the sugar. He couldn't resist resting his free hand against her hip as he grabbed the sugar.

"Thanks," she laughed. "Next time give me a minute and I'll get out of your way."

"Maybe I didn't want you out of my way," he said softly, unable to resist giving her a quick kiss near her collarbone. "How did it go in there?"

Pam groaned. "The usual nightmare."

"Did he ask about us?"

"Surprisingly, no," she said. "He was more interested in finding out what I knew about Michael and Jan. I don't think he believed me when I said I didn't know of anything going on between them."

"Anything else? You were in there for a long time."

"They had some camera problems, which didn't help. They had to re-tape some parts two or three times." Pam nodded toward the door. "Speaking of, should you really have followed me in here? I thought you told me to be extra careful today."

Jim cleared his throat. "Yes, I know. But speaking of careful, I remembered that I wanted to ask you something."

Pam filled the kettle, not looking at him. "Okay, what?"

Jim placed both hands against the edge of the counter. He felt suddenly shy, which he knew was silly given he was just talking to Pam. Given the nature of the conversation they'd had last night, and even earlier today, he expected to be well past such bashfulness. "Well," he began, "I have my bag for tonight already in my car, but I was wondering if you needed me to pick up anything for tonight."

Pam tilted her head thoughtfully. "No, nothing I can think of," she said. "I think I have everything I need for dinner."

Jim shifted his feet. "I wasn't talking about dinner."

Pam looked over at him curiously. "What do you mean?"

Jim looked at her. She didn't seem to have a clue what he was talking about. He actually could feel himself blushing, which was making it worse. "Well, I mean for later. I don't know if you are on anything." He ran his hand through his hair, and when he looked back at Pam she had a slight smirk on her face.

"What are you trying to say, Jim?" she asked, taking a step closer to him.

"I think you know what I'm asking about now, Beesly."

"You better make it clearer so I understand you."

He shook his head, and looked around again to make certain no one was near the kitchen. He looked down at the counter. "Do you need me to bring condoms tonight?" he said softly and slowly, almost to the point of over-enunciation.

He heard her giggle and glanced over at her. "What?" he asked, feeling defensive. "It's a legitimate question."

She put her hand on his chest, briefly running her fingers over his tie. "You really are adorable sometimes, Halpert," she grinned. She picked up her newly brewed tea, and headed back to her desk, the question left dangling in the air unanswered.

He suppressed the urge to run after her, by only because Stanley walked into the kitchen, which reminded him they were not alone. He forced himself to bide some time by getting a soda out of the machine. When he walked back to his desk, Pam was looking up at him from hers, clearly pleased about something. The crew was now closed up in Michael's office, so he walked straight to her desk.

"So was that a yes or a no, Beesly?" he asked, leaning over her desk.

She raised her eyebrows. "Well, for a start, you're presuming quite a bit about tonight, aren't you?" 

Jim mimicked her expression. "Given last night's conversation," he said, his voice deepening, "There isn't much presuming involved. I seem to remember you promising many things tonight, and I heard no redacting on that this afternoon."

Pam kept her eyes on his. "I suppose I did, didn't I?" She smiled again. "Well, maybe we'll just take our chances. Kelly seems to think babies are a great idea." The look on Jim's face started her giggling again. "Oh it's too easy with you, Jim. Much too easy."

Jim couldn't help but grin at her teasing. It was impossible for him not to feel giddy over the fact they were even having this conversation. "So you're taking care of things then."

Pam noticed the crew coming out of Michael's office and knew she had to end their game. "Yes, of course," she said looking up. "There's nothing to worry about, and I'll be glad to go into detail tonight, if you like." She jerked her head up slightly, and Jim realized the crew were wandering their way.

"Okay, well, that should work well for everyone then," Jim said a little too loudly, and walked back to his desk. He was really going to glad when this damn documentary was over.

Jim ticked down the rest of the afternoon in every possible way except by selling paper. He had a seven game winning streak in FreeCell, ruined only by the hand where the seven of hearts remained stuck under the eight of hearts. He renamed a few playlists on his iPod and created a new one he titled only as After, his expectations for this evening clearly at the forefront of his mind. He found all sorts of flimsy excuses to turn around and look at Pam (it was easier to straighten out his tie if he turned completely away from his desk) or to walk over to her desk ('Does this stapler look like it's jammed to you?'). If Pam had caught on she seemed more than willing to play along, as every time he looked she seemed to give him that little smile he felt she reserved only for him. He thought of it as her indulgent smile, one that told him she thought he was a complete dork and loved him all the more for it. It was a smile he wanted to see from her every day for the rest of his life.

When five o'clock finally arrived, Jim waited rather impatiently at his desk for people to leave. He knew he should wait until at least Karen left before walking out with Pam. He send a message to Pam.

bJH:/b So what's for dinner tonight?

bPB:/b It's a surprise.

bJH:/b What kind of surprise?

bPB:/b You'll see. 

bJH:/b How do you know I'll like it? What if I have a major food allergy you've forgotten to ask about?

bPB:/b I guess it sucks for you then. What time are you coming over?

bJH:/b Right after work.

bPB:/b Right after work? I won't be ready yet - how about 6:30?

bJH:/b I have no reason to go home - I already have everything with me. You don't need to get anything ready before hand.

bPB:/b Yes I do. 

bJH:/b Beesly, it's me. What do you need to prepare that I can't watch?

bPB:/b Well I wanted to take a shower when I get home, for a start.

bJH:/b I can watch that.

bPB:/b Shut up. I'm going home now.

Jim smiled and turned off his computer. He stood up the same time Pam did, and as Kevin and Angela walked passed him, he made sure he didn't look over at her. There was an unspoken agreement not to talk to each other as they both put on their coats and headed to the elevator. They silently stood next to each other in the elevator, as Kevin talked about his coming weekend and Angela glared at Kevin. Pam let her hand slowly brush against Jim's backside as she walked out of the elevator, and he bit his lip to keep quiet. He followed her out to the parking lot, walking to their respective cars without so much as an acknowledgment. Jim let Pam pull out of the parking lot first, and then followed, heading for Pam's house despite her earlier objection. 

By the time Jim pulled into the parking lot of Pam's apartment building, she was sitting on the stoop waiting for him. "What took you so long, Halpert?" she complained, standing up. "It's cold out here!"

He took his duffel bag out of his trunk and walked over to her. "I thought you didn't want me arriving until six-thirty?" he grinned.

She rolled her eyes. "Like you were going to listen to me anyway," she said. She stood on the first step and put her arms around his shoulders when he stopped in front of her.

"Hi," she said.

"Hey," he grinned. "You want to tell me what that little maneuver in the elevator was about?"

She giggled. "Just shut up and kiss me."

"I can do that," he replied. He dropped his bag on the sidewalk, and kissed her, her skin feeling cool from the open air. He ran his hands over her hips, wrapping his arms around her. He felt her lips part beneath his, and opened his to taste her. He'd been waiting for this evening for so long that this simple beginning was enough to already make him feel hot all over. "Let's get inside," he managed to say.

She nodded. She grabbed his hand and lead him into her apartment. "Well, here we are," she announced as she took her coat off. "Small and unready to receive guests, as I mentioned before."

Jim took his coat off. "And still only one kitchen, I see."

"No need to rub it in, Halpert." She took his coat from him. "I'll just throw these in my bedroom," she said.

"Can I put my bags in there as well?" he asked, following her.

"Yeah, sure," she replied, opening the door and flipping on the light switch. Her bedroom was a collection of art supplies in one corner, books in another, and a collection of clothes strewn along a half-made bed. She put the coats on the bed, and turned to face him. "No comments on the mess, or out you go," she said sternly.

Jim set his bags on the floor near her dresser and shook his head. "I was going to say it was nice to see your bedroom looking so lived in. I was expecting you to be a neat freak."

"Well, it's usually more picked up than this," she said, looking around.

"Don't care," Jim said, reaching out to brush some hair out of her eyes. "I'm just glad to be here." His fingers stopped along the side of her jaw, and he could feel her pulse beating. He leaned in and put his lips where his fingers had been, and felt her tilt her head back, her hand reaching out to find his arm for balance. She leaned into him as he kissed his way down her neck.

"Alright," she said, clearing her throat. "Let me go put dinner in the oven."

He followed her back out into the living room, stretching out on her couch as she busied herself in the kitchen. There seemed to be a flurry of activity, but she rejected Jim's offer to help. Roughly fifteen minutes later she closed the oven door and set the timer. She walked over toward the couch.

"If you don't mind, I'm going to take a quick shower before dinner," she said. "Feel free to watch television or something - I promise I won't be long."

Jim sat on the couch as he listened to her rummaging around her room, and then heard the door to the bathroom shut. He noticed he did not hear the sound of a lock sliding in place. As the water started to run, he stood up and wandered into Pam's bedroom. He wasn't intending to go through her things - he just wanted to lie on her bed and feel her presence. How many nights had she spent lying here thinking about him when he was in Stamford missing her? How many nights would he now spend sleeping here, next to her, erasing all the heartache of years past with the new memories they'd would be making? He thought it would be quite easy for him to fall in love with this very room. There was so much potential for happiness here. 

He listened to the shower running, his imagination starting to get the best of him. He wasn't exactly sure where the idea came from, but he decided he was tired of waiting. Shoes and socks already discarded at the front door, Jim started to loosen his tie as his knocked on the bathroom door, then turned the handle and walked in.

He closed the bathroom door quickly behind him and leaned against the door. The air was already a bit steamy from the shower, and Pam pulled the shower curtain back slightly to peek out at him, her hair wrapped up into a bun on the top of her head.

"Jim?"

"Hey," he said. He could feel he heart rate rising already. He began unbuttoning his shirt. "I thought you might appreciate a little help." 

Pam said nothing for a long minute, simply staring back into his eyes. Jim started to worry he'd made a wrong move, then she finally spoke. "Okay," she replied, dropping the shower curtain back in place between them. He thought her voice sounded a little nervous, and he quickly finished with his shirt and dropped that on the floor with his tie. He unfastened his pants as he walked closer to the shower, and sound of his zipper sliding down seemed to echo in the tiny bathroom. It certainly was loud enough for Pam to pull the curtain back again a bit, a look of amusement now on her face.

It was Jim's turn to feel a little anxious as she watched him pull off his trousers and boxers, standing in front of her not only completely undressed but unquestionably aroused. 

"Get in here before you get too cold," was all she said as she disappeared behind the curtain again.

The water felt hot against Jim's skin as he stepped into the bathtub and shut the curtain. He closed his eyes as he let himself get adjusted to the water temperature, and soon he felt Pam's warm hands moving over his chest. He opened his eyes to find her regarding him with something akin to approval.

"Very nice," she said, her fingers grazing over the hair on his chest. "What other secrets have you been keeping from me?" She glanced down at his erection and didn't even attempt to hide a grin. "I mean apart from the obvious."

Jim laughed. "I don't think ithat/i's been a secret for quite some time," he replied. "And I had no idea you even had a preference for chest hair."

"I didn't know I did either," she said, unable to resist touching his chest. "But this - this really suits you. I like it a lot." 

"Good," he replied. "I really wasn't looking forward to waxing." She had been smiling, but when he bent his head down and captured her lips with his, the mood turned breathlessly serious. Her hands slid up his neck and along both sides of his face, the early evening stubble prickly against her fingers.

The water beating down on Pam's back made her skin warm and slick, and he could not resist touching her. Down her back, across her hips, stroking her thighs - he didn't think he could ever get enough of her. He dropped kisses down her chin and neck. "Turn around," he murmured in her ear, and she complied without a sound. She relaxed against him as he continued to kiss her neck and shoulders, the water cascading over both of them. Hands that had been caressing her hips moved up her sides and across her belly. Soft and rounded and feminine, Jim paused for a moment as the idea that someday his children - their children - would grow here, in her. He felt his love for her more deeply than he could ever remember.

"Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?" he asked, pulling her even closer to him.

Her response was inaudible, but any words she might have said turned to sighs as he continued his journey over her body. He cupped her breasts, groaning with pleasure as they more than filled his large hands. Soft and heavy, he teased her nipples with soft strokes of his palms until they grew hard and she arched against him. He could feel his desire for her taking control, and he began to rock his hips against her.

Pam turned to face him. "Your turn," she said. Her eyes looked nearly black in the low light of the bathroom, and her lips had flushed red from the hot water and her own arousal. He stepped in front of her, his back now taking full blast of the shower. She kissed him, biting on his lower lip until he opened his mouth and let her tongue dart in. The taste of her mouth and tongue set off a spark of electricity through him, and his erection throbbed. He put his hands around her ass and pulled her tight against him, leaving no confusion over his desire for her.

Pam pushed gently away, running her hands over his chest again. She put her hand up to his lips, tenderly outlining them with her fingers. His eyes met hers, and he kissed her fingers.

"I love you, you know," she said. "I'm not quite sure I believe you're really here."

Jim nodded slightly. "I know," he replied.

Pam kissed his chest, and smiled up at him. Her hands moved down to his waist as she placed a line of kisses down his chest and stomach. Her fingertips traced the route further down to his hips as she kneeled in the bathtub, and Jim's hands reached out for hers as he felt her mouth take him in. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, the shower dousing his hair. He moaned as her tongue found his most exquisitely sensitive spots, and as she continued to pleasure him Jim reached up and held onto the shower curtain bar. He hadn't even come yet and she was driving him crazy. It felt so good it was almost painful, and when he did climax, he briefly worried he was going to faint. He was aware that she hadn't drawn away as he began to ejaculate, keeping her mouth firmly around him, and he had come so hard it was some moments before his waves of ejaculation had finally finished. He knew at that moment he would marry this woman or die trying, though he thought it best to keep such a revelation to himself for now.

Jim was still breathing heavy when he felt Pam get up, reach behind him and turn off the shower. When he felt confident that he could stand again, he let go of the shower rod and pulled her into his arms. "You are amazing," he said.

He heard her laugh against his chest. "Of course I am," she replied. "And don't you forget that." She stepped back and pushed the shower curtain open. "Now let's get some food. I'm starving."

As they dried themselves off and dressed in the requisite pajamas the party (and Pam) had demanded, Jim marveled at how Pam could still surprise him after all this time. Granted, they had only interacted in the office for so many years, but even so he had come to believe that he knew her better than anyone. Now, he was wondering if he knew her at all. Her ability to shift from jokester to buddy to confident to lover without missing a beat impressed him beyond words. He couldn't imagine another person filling his life so completely.

He sat at the breakfast bar in his green and blue plaid pajamas, watching her make a salad. She was wearing pink satin pajamas, the button-down top and bottoms both covered with red and white hearts. She had proudly announced she had purchased the outfit at Victoria's Secret, but Jim wondered if that shop sold anything that covered up that much skin. Still, with her matching pink fuzzy slippers, and her hair pulled back into a ponytail with a matching pink scrunchie, he wouldn't trade her for any of their underwear models. He knew they couldn't begin to compare with what she could do to him.

"Are you sure you don't need any help?" he asked.

She brought the finished salad over to the bar. "Actually, yes. I forgot to set up the living room. Go pull the pillows and comforter off my bed and bring them in here, please."

Jim did as he was told, and with further instruction had soon set up the living room floor into a comfortable arrangement of pillows and blankets. The perfect slumber party atmosphere, Jim thought.

They sat across from each other at the breakfast bar as Pam served dinner. In addition to salad and flatbread, she presented a multi-spiced dish of rice, chicken, vegetables, raisins and almonds. "What is it?" Jim asked, "It smells wonderful."

"It's a Moroccan dish," Pam explained. I actually cooked most of it yesterday, so the flavors could mix properly."

"I'm impressed, Beesly," Jim said after his first few bites. "I might let you cook for me more often."

She threw a bit of flatbread at him. "Oh, could I really? Please? Maybe you could just let me quit my job and I can cook AND clean for you."

"And remain barefoot and pregnant. Don't forget that."

She snorted. "Nope," she replied, raising her foot high in the air. "Pink fuzzy slippers and pregnant, or no deal."

Jim grinned at her. "Fine, but you drive a hard bargain, Beesly." She threw another piece of flatbread at him.

"Hey!" he complained, laughing. "Quit throwing bread at me."

"So what are you going to cook for me, Halpert? I need to see some evidence of culinary expertise."

"I've been told I do wonderful toast."

She smirked. "I've had your toast. What else do you make?"

Jim thought a moment. "I have been known to get compliments for my lasagna."

"Really? From who?"

"People."

"What kind of people? Your mom?"

"Hey, my mom counts as people."

Pam giggled. "Okay, tomorrow night is lasagna at your house."

Jim rubbed his chin. "I'm not sure if I'm going to be available tomorrow night."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, tomorrow's the big revealing of my True Love. I might just have other plans."

"Right, sorry, my mistake," Pam said, getting up to put her dirty plates into the sink. "Well, you get back to me on that, okay? Because I certainly don't want to be responsible for standing in the way of True Love."

Jim picked up his plates and followed her to the sink. He put down his plates and ran his hands over the slick satin of the back of her pajama top. "Are we ready for movies?" he asked.

"Just about," she replied, leaning back against him. "I just need to start the dessert heating. You can go sit down and I'll be there in a minute."

He put his arms around her waist, kissing her neck. "Are you sure there's nothing I can do for you?" He highlighted his offer by running his hands over her thighs and hips.

"Go sit down," she laughed. "Or no dessert for you."

"What could be a better dessert than you?" he grinned, kissing her again.

"Chocolate fondue," Pam replied.

Jim let her go immediately. "Right. Good point." He winked at her as he walked into the living room.

Pam set out the small crock pot with melted chocolate on the coffee table, alongside a tray of strawberries and marshmallows. They hit play on the first Star Wars film of the evening, and snuggled together on the floor amidst the pillows and comforter. When the chocolate was ready, they moved over to the coffee table for dessert. They took turns feeding each other while they mocked Jar Jar Binks.

Jim knew the evening was going to move in a more interesting direction when Pam reached over and dotted the end of his nose with the now cooling chocolate. He gave her a disapproving look, so she leaned over and licked it off. She put her finger in the pot and dotted her own nose with the chocolate, looking at him expectantly. He rolled his eyes, but sat forward and kissed it off her nose. She turned her attention to the movie again, but Jim watched as she very deliberately put a streak of chocolate along her jawline. Jim laughed and moved closer to her, slowly licking the chocolate off her skin as she tried to stay focused on the film. 

A few moments later she drew a thin line of chocolate from underneath her chin down to the open vee of her pajama top. She giggled as Jim pushed her back onto some pillows and hovered over her, taking his time in enjoying the mixed taste of her skin and the fondue. As he worked his way to her collarbone, he began to unbutton her pajamas. When he was done with the chocolate he pushed aside one side of her top and with one hand brought her breast to his mouth.

Pam let out a surprised gasp. "I didn't put chocolate there!"

Jim looked up at her. "No? Sorry, my mistake," he grinned, and put his head back down. He heard her breath catch in her throat as he ran his tongue over her nipple, and she moaned softly as he began to suck on it. He was already feeling aroused again, the movie long forgotten. He was determined to show her how good he could make her feel.

She was moving beneath him by the time he turned his attention to her other breast, and he felt her reaching for his shirt in an attempt to unbutton it. He sat back, pulling her up with him. He pushed her open shirt off her shoulders, and kissed her as she unbuttoned his flannel shirt. He shrugged it off and pushed her back down onto the pillows, electrified by the feeling of her soft breasts pressing against his chest. He teased her mouth with his as he pulled off her satin pajama bottoms and let his hand settle between her legs. Pam's hands clutched his hair as he explored her wetness and warmth. She cried his name against his neck as he touched her in all the right places, and he repeated how much he loved her as he bought her to orgasm. He held her as she relaxed against him, but soon felt her hands move down his body, stopping to tug on the waistband of his pajamas. "Please," she said softly, pulling him toward her. "I need you."

Jim didn't hesitate. Pajamas long forgotten, legs and arms intertwined, their first time together was achingly bittersweet with the awareness of how long they had waited for that moment. When they had finished they stayed wrapped around each other, as if it were a physical pain to be separated. Jim pulled a blanket over their bodies, and they eventually drifted to sleep together, to the fading sound of the Imperial March.

- Glenlivit 12: single malt scotch 12 years 


	12. On The Twelfth Day of Christmas

Jim opened his eyes and looked around, momentarily confused. It soon dawned on him that he was still in Pam's living room. The clock on the DVD player told him he hadn't slept for more than an hour or so. Pam was still beautifully naked in his arms, sleeping. He pressed his face into the nape of her neck, her skin and scent reminding him of what they'd shared earlier.

In many ways, their first time was not unlike any other time he'd had sex. She was eager to touch and be touched, and her guidance made it a lot less awkward than it could have been. But that's where any similarities to his past experience ended. The excitement of knowing he was making love to Pam, meshing his years of fantasies with this first reality, heightened his senses so much that he probably could have come without even touching her. He felt himself becoming aroused again just thinking about how good it felt to be inside her, how right it felt. And for the first time in longer than he cared to remember, he didn't feel the suffocating sadness that usually followed sex. He felt relaxed, he felt loved. He felt like he was where he should be. Watching Pam sleep, he still felt that way.

He sat up to grab the remote control to turn off the television. His movement caused Pam to stir, one hand rubbing her eyes, the other reaching out to touch his back. "Jim?" She said softly.

"It's okay," he replied, snatching the remote and lying back down beside her. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Good," she murmured, reaching for him.

He leaned over her, clicked off the television and kissed her.

"Did you just turn off the TV?" she asked groggily.

"Yeah, I didn't think we needed to keep it on."

"But I was watching the movie."

Jim laughed quietly, "You were sleeping, Pam," he said, kissing her again.

"Just for a little bit," she said. "I want to see the rest of it."

"The movie ended already."

"Oh. Well, put in the next one."

"Seriously?"

Pam pushed herself up on her elbows. "Yeah, seriously. At least put the third movie in, Jim. That's my favorite."

Jim sat back, grinning at her. "Okay," he replied, not terribly convinced that they'd be watching much of this movie either. He crawled out from under the blanket and changed the discs in the machine. He turned back for the remote and found Pam watching him intently. "Something on your mind?" he asked.

She grinned. "Just enjoying the view. I think I could get used to watching you work naked."

"God, please don't suggest anything of the sort to Michael. I could see him implementing Casual Naked Fridays."

She laughed, the rich and throaty sound enticing Jim. "Maybe we'll just keep that as our own personal dress code around here then."

"That works for me," he replied, moving toward her.

She pointed toward the hallway "Can you grab a few blankets from the closet next to the bathroom? It's kind of cold in here."

He came back with two thick quilts, dropping them on the floor near her feet. "Come on, move over," he teasingly complained, sliding under the comforter once again. Pam rearranged some pillows, having Jim sit up with his back against the couch. She tucked herself between his outstretched legs, resting her back against his chest and pulling the new blankets up around them as the movie's opening scenes unfolded.

"Comfortable?" she asked, looking over her shoulder at him.

Jim reached up and pulled the scrunchie out of her hair, then ran his fingers through her hair as it fell down her shoulders. "There, now that's better," he said, as Pam leaned back and he wrapped his arms around her waist.

Jim attempted to watch the movie. He really did. The third episode of this trilogy was his favorite, too - but he just couldn't keep his focus on the storyline. Something about the fact that he was sitting snuggled up naked next to the love of his life made the movie less than compelling. What was holding his attention was the sensation of her legs brushed alongside his, her outer thighs warmly pressing up against his inner thighs, her back touching his groin, his chest. His hands were flush against her stomach, but he could feel her breasts resting against his forearms. How could Anakin Skywalker possibly compete against that, even if he was going to transform into Darth Vader?

His concentration on the movie lasted about fifteen minutes, then he gave up all pretenses. He pressed his lips to her temple. She leaned further back into him, sighing in approval. He kissed her again, this time placing his lips just in front of her ear. She hugged his arms closer to her. He kissed her next along her jaw, nipping it lightly with his teeth.

"What are you doing, Jim?" she asked, her eyes never leaving the television.

"I believe my people call it kissing," he replied, placing his lips against the side of her throat.

"Your people?" Pam giggled as he kissed her neck again, this time pressing his tongue to her skin for a taste of her.

"The Worshipers at the Altar of Pam," he replied, sliding his tongue along the hollow where her neck met her shoulder.

"Shut up," she said, tilting her head slightly to give him better access to her uncovered shoulder.

"Seriously," he replied. "We are a very small but adoring people."

"And how many are you?"

He paused. "Just one at the moment."

"I thought so."

"It wouldn't be very difficult to find recruits," he said, kissing her shoulder.

"I don't think that's necessary," she said, sounding content. "You seem to be doing well enough as the charter member."

"Thank you," he smiled against her skin, kissing her shoulder again. "Just about all of the previous worship has had to be done away from the altar."

"Oh, that's a shame," Pam replied. "Let's hope things get easier for you."

He kissed her neck, moving his hands from across her stomach to her hips. "Actually, things generally get harder when the worship's done right."

She laughed again, and elbowed him gently in the stomach. He could feel her laughter seep into his chest. "Oh, Shut UP!"

He laughed with her, then started once again to explore her body. He kept his left hand against her hip and outer thigh, and slowly caressed her other hip with his right. As she continued to lie back against him and watch the film he moved his right hand over her thigh, finally resting it just between her legs.

"What are you up to?" she asked.

"Nothing," he replied, his lips still against her shoulder.

"Hmm," she replied. "Okay then." She shifted slightly, bending her left knee and resting her hand on top of it.  
Jim couldn't help but grin. Her repositioning was not exactly subtle, even if her words were. He decided it would be interesting to play it her way. His hand slipped further in, his fingertips lightly stroking the moist skin he found there. She pushed herself further back against him, but there was no where for her to go. He probed deeper, watching the film and saying nothing. He could hear her breathing changing; she was breathing a little faster, and ever so often she'd take a very deep breath, as if caught by surprise. He wished he could more easily see her face, but body was giving him plenty of feedback.

He could feel her hips arch against his hand when his thumb stroked her clitoris. "You okay?" he asked casually.

"Yeah," Pam replied, sounding a little strained. "I'm fine."

"Good, good." He bit his lip to prevent himself from laughing. This was entirely too much fun. He was determined to make her be the first to break, and this game was seriously turning him on. He knew she had to feel his erection, and every time she leaned back or he made her squirm she brushed against him in exactly the right way.

He soon realized she was rubbing against him on purpose. As he continued to stroke her, she moved again, the back of her hip shifting up and down against his groin. This sent a wave of pleasure through Jim so strong he sucked his breath in loudly, and in doing so he heard Pam let out a small chuckle of satisfaction.

He gently bit the back of her neck, while at the same time glided three fingers deep into her as he continued to massage her with this thumb. "Still doing okay?" he asked quietly, his mouth next to her ear.

"Uh-huh," she replied, her voice barely audible. He gently kissed her neck where he'd nipped at her moments ago, knowing his victory was in reach. She was leaning heavily against him, her head back, and he could now see her face. Her eyes were closed, and her hips had developed a rhythm to match movement of his hand.

He leaned over and kissed cheek gently. "Open your eyes, Pam," he said. "Look at me."

She turned her face toward his and did as he asked. Her eyes were dark, her irises nearly invisible. Her right hand came up to touch the side of his face, and as he heard her breath catch he felt her tighten against his fingers. She moaned and slid her fingers back from his face and tangled them into his hair, tightening her grip so much it hurt him a bit. But her eyes never left his, and to watch her like that was so incredible that he barely felt it. He kept stroking her until he felt her relax, and then he leaned over and kissed her again. When he lifted his head, her eyes were closed, but she was smiling slightly. Her fingers were still in his hair, and she slowly released them out and ran her hand down his neck and chest.

She opened her eyes again. "I won," she grinned.

Jim laughed. "You won? Not by the rules I was playing with,"

She nodded slightly. "Trust me, I won."

Jim wrapped his arms around her tightly. "If you say so," he sighed. "Personally I don't think losing was that bad, either."

Pam giggled, and turned around to face him. She brought her arms up around his neck. "I love you," she said happily.

"Of course you do now," Jim replied, his hands rubbing against her back. "Tell me again when the afterglow's gone and I'm snoring and drooling all over you."

She kissed him, rising up on her knees so as to tower over him slightly. "Let's go back to the bedroom," she whispered against his lips.

Jim pulled back for a moment. "What? And miss your movie?" He raised his eyebrows in an expression of victory

"Yes, fine," she grinned.

"So you concede that movie night was a complete disaster?"

"No, of course I don't," she replied.

"But we pretty much completely ignored not one, but two movies!"

"Still not a disaster," Pam said cheerfully. "I'd gladly plan it again for next week."

Jim shook his head and clicked off the television. "It's all a ruse to take advantage of me, that's what it was," he complained.

Pam stood up, wrapping her comforter around her. "Exactly. And as I can attest, that was a complete success." 

Jim reached to grab her and she quickly sidestepped his hand. "I'll see you in the bedroom," she teased. "Bring some pillows."

Jim smiled broadly as he watched her walk away, the rest of the comforter trailing behind her like a long bridal train. Jim ran both hands through his hair, and tried to imagine what he would have thought if he'd been told at Christmas how quickly his relationship with Pam was going to be turned on its head. Just two weeks ago he would never had let himself believe things could work out so well, as his heart was still full of sharp edges where Pam was concerned. Too many regrets, too many doubts, too many fears. But now? Now anything seemed possible, and more importantly, he was starting to believe it wasn't going to be snatched away when he wasn't looking. It was an alien feeling to Jim, but he was pretty sure he what he felt was beginning of confidence and security.

He picked up the two largest pillows, then went around shutting off lights and checking locks. He walked toward the soft light that spilled out of Pam's bedroom door. She was sitting on her bed, the comforter still wrapped around her, and the light came from a small lamp on her bedside table. 

"What took you so long?" she teased. "I thought maybe you left."

"Oh yeah, I'm so outta here," he joked as he threw the pillows on the bed and then sat down next to her. "Hey, somebody had to be the adult and check the lights and doors."

"Hey, I'm adult," she replied. "I just had more important things on my mind."

Jim started to tug the comforter away from Pam's body. "And what important things would those be?"

"Oh, very important things," she replied, shivering slightly as he pulled the comforter off.

Jim pushed her back against the pillows and moved on top of her, covered her body with his. "So you were saying. Care to elaborate?"

"Oh, you know," she smiled, running her hands along his sides, "Our trade imbalance with China, acid rain, whether or not Britney is pregnant again..."

"Right. That's exactly what you've been thinking about tonight." He shook his head in despair. "What in the world am I going to do with you?"

She moved her hands across his back. "Given our position I'm assuming something nice."

He rubbed his body against hers as he leaned in to kiss her neck, working his way up behind her left ear, down across her jaw and finally descending onto her mouth. Pam responded in kind, eagerly capturing his tongue between her lips, all the while running her nails lightly up and down his back. She continued her exploration, and he could feel the warmth of her hands over his hips and around the curve of his ass. He brought his right knee up, parting her legs and settling himself in against her. He groaned against her lips as he felt her hand slid between them, an intoxicating rush of pleasure hitting him as she began to stroke him. He loved that she wanted to touch him, but she was pushing him along too fast. He wanted to slow down this time, so he sat up and took her wrists. He placed kisses into each palm of her hand, and then gently pushed her arms up over her head.

"Can you keep your hands to yourself or am I going to have to tie them down?" He asked, a challenge in his voice.

Pam grinned. "I was just trying to help."

"And you were doing too good a job of it," he said. Propped up on his elbows, his hands still entwined with hers, he bent his head down and tenderly kissed her once, twice, then a third time, the last one a long, deep kiss as Pam's eager mouth once again distracted him from whatever else he might have had to say.

Their lovemaking continued on a slow and gentle pace. Jim was a quick to note what pleased her, and every time he managed to elicit a sound of pleasure from her he felt his excitement build. His satisfaction seemed to feed solely off her enjoyment, and her whispered words of love to him made him wish this moment in time would never end. By the time they'd finally finished, exhausted but content, it was well after midnight. Blankets rearranged, sheets straightened, Jim spooned up behind Pam and drifted off to sleep with his arm protectively around her waist, and the feeling of her hand tightly holding on to his.

There was sunlight streaming in through the breaks in the blinds when the telephone rang, causing both Pam and Jim to be startled awake. She had turned to face him sometime during the night, so her wide eyes were the first thing Jim saw when he opened his. 

"God, who could that be?" Pam muttered, moving closer to Jim.

"Aren't you going to answer it?" Jim asked, welcoming her nearness.

"Uh-uh," she mumbled, sliding her arm over his waist and tucking her head against his chest. "I don't want to talk to anybody. They can call back if it's important."

Jim smiled and relaxed into her. He had just about fallen back to sleep when the phone rang again. 

"Dammit," Pam groaned. She sat up and stretched, the sheet slipping down to her waist. Jim leered playfully at her as she reached to the bed stand for the phone, batting his approaching hand away and pulling the sheet up to her chin.

"Please," Jim laughed. "Like I haven't seen plenty of everything already."

She made a face at him as she clicked the handset on. "Hello?"

Jim looked over at the clock on the dresser. It was already ten o'clock. He stretched out, thinking how well he'd slept in Pam's bed. And how much he looked forward to sleeping there on a regular basis. He rolled onto his side facing Pam, and watched as her face went serious as she listened to the caller.

"Oh, Abby," Pam said. "I'm so sorry."

Jim tried to remember who Abby was. She didn't have a sister, and wasn't aware of any friends of hers by that name. Though if he was being honest, there were lots of things he didn't know about her these days. She'd gone through so many changes after he left, and as of now he knew about almost none of it. He reached out and put his hand on her thigh, thinking of how many things he wanted to rectify between them. He wanted to know more about her than any other person on earth. He wanted to be the Pam expert. But right now he wondered what had happened to Abby and how it concerned Pam.

Pam nodded a few times as she listened into the phone. "I know," she sympathized. "I don't blame you at all."

Jim got up and used the bathroom, then went into the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. They might as well get up and enjoy the day at this point, he thought. He found the coffee and filled the machine, then started cleaning up the kitchen from last night's meal. He had managed to load all the dishes into the dishwasher by the time Pam wandered out in search of him.

She smiled when she saw him, standing naked in her kitchen, wiping down the counter top and waiting for the coffee to finish brewing. "Now this is a Kodak moment," she joked, walking over to hug him. "It's not everyday I have a gorgeous unclothed man cleaning my kitchen."

Jim put his arms around her, rubbing his hands against the soft terry cloth material of her robe. "Well, you happen to be in luck then," he smiled, "as I was considering offering such a service. You could be my first paying customer."

"First?" Pam raised an eyebrow. "I better be your only."

He leaned down and kissed her nose. "Who's Abby?" he asked.

"Abby's a friend I met in art class," Pam replied. "She called because she just got home after being out of town for the week. She was a day or so early, and she unlocked her apartment door, put down her bags, and walked into her bedroom to find her boyfriend sleeping with another woman."

"Ouch."

"Yeah, I'd say. She was pretty upset about the whole thing."

"I can imagine. So what happened after she found them?"

"She said they weren't awake when she first walked in the bedroom, so she ran back out into the living room intent on just getting the hell out of there." Pam paused, then smiled up at Jim. "Then she remembered the apartment was in her name so she slammed the bedroom door open and started throwing things at them both to wake them up. Then she told them to get the hell out."

Jim nodded. "I could see you doing that."

"Oh yeah right," Pam scoffed. "Because I'm so just like that. I wouldn't have had the guts to do that. I told her I was proud of her."

"I don't know," Jim mused. "The old Pam might have been willing to slink away, but I have my suspicions the new Pam wouldn't take it so lightly."

"You planning on testing that theory?"

"Not in my life time," he replied, kissing her forehead this time. "I quite prefer being on your good side."

"Hmmm. Probably a good decision. Now that I think about it, I can't imagine I would let you get away with crap. I would probably devote my life to making yours a living hell if you ever did such a thing."

"Hell hath no fury like a Pam scorned," he murmured, leaning down to kiss her properly.

"Exactly," she smiled, kissing him back.

The coffee machine buzzed. "Coffee?" Jim asked. 

"Yes, please," Pam replied, sitting at the counter. "I told Abby I would come over this afternoon."

"What time this afternoon?" Jim put down the mugs, then grabbed spoons, sugar and milk. "How long do you think you'll be over there?"

"I don't know how long," Pam replied. "And I told her I'd be over around two."

Jim frowned as he sat down across from her. "I suppose you don't have much of a choice."

"Jim! The girl just went through a nightmare this morning," Pam said, seemingly surprised at his comments. "I couldn't say no when she asked me to come over."

He shook his head. "I know, I'm just being selfish." He gingerly sipped his hot coffee. "I guess I sort of imagined us spending all day together here."

She reached over and took his hand. "I won't be gone long, I promise. I have no intention of being away from you this evening." She smiled at him and he could feel the inflection in her voice stirring him again. Would he ever get used to the idea that she wanted him - that she really wanted him?

He took another drink of his coffee, the hot liquid distracting him only slightly from the fact that he wanted to drag her back to bed and make love to her again. "Good," he replied, clearing his throat. "You should know that I've decided I'm no longer interested in ever sleeping alone again. If you can't make it I'll need notice so I can all in a back-up."

"How much notice?" 

"Generally twenty-four hours. I can bill you for the replacement service if you don't give me enough time."

She nodded. "Got it." Then she grinned. "You're such a dork."

"Bet I'll find you in my bed tonight, though," he said, eyebrows raised.

"Well yeah, obviously," she replied flippantly, finally taking a sip of her coffee. "But you're still a dork."

When their coffees were finished Jim pulled Pam up off her chair and nudged her toward the bathroom. "Care for a shower?"

"We just had one last night," Pam replied, grinning. "So I have no idea why you would think we'd need another so soon."

He was standing behind her, so he put his arms around her and untied the belt of her bathrobe. He slipped his hands inside her robe and caressed her breasts, cupping them while he kissed the back of her neck.

"Right," she sighed deeply. "Good point." He led her into the bathroom, turned on the water, and went back to kissing her while he waited for the water to reach the right temperature. He helped her out of her robe and over the tub's edge, and they spent an inordinate amount of time playing with the scented bath washes and bubbles and shampoo and each other. He washed her hair, being extra careful not to drip soap into her eyes, and insisted on applying the conditioner as well. She used the same shampoo to lather up his hair, his chest, and other interesting parts of him that she said needed the benefit of a deep conditioning. 

She told him she'd been using the cucumber melon scented products for a month now because the smell reminded her of summer, and Jim wondered if he'd ever be able to eat fruit salad again without getting an erection. They stayed in the shower much longer than strictly necessary, and he was amazed at how he managed to find a woman who could make him laugh so hard one moment, only to silence him completely when he felt her lips trailing down his stomach. He knew he better reach for the shower curtain rod.

"Is this going to be habit of yours?" he asked her, his voice wavering as he felt her tongue probing him.

She looked up, moving her mouth away from him. "Is that going to be problem for you? Am I already getting predictable?"

"Yeah, actually, it's getting kind of old," he said, "but you know, you go with what you know - I'll bear it."

She stood back up. "No, I don't want to bore you," she replied.

Jim put his hand firmly on her hip. "Please. Bore me." Their eyes met and the amusement and love he saw in her eyes told Jim that the last thing this woman could ever do was bore him.

"Actually," she said in a conspiratorial tone, "This is all part of a Pavlovian experiment."

"Really?"

"Yes. I want to see if I can condition you to salivate at the sound of running water."

"Salivate?"

"Well, yeah - so to speak."

Jim's reaction was a strangled, barking laugh. He put his hand on the shower wall and leaned his head against it. He heard her rich laughter and lifted his head back up, running his hand over this morning's stubble. "I have no words for how truly twisted you are, Pam Beesly," he finally said.

"Thank you," she smiled broadly. She reached up and drew his head down to hers for a kiss.

"God, how I love you," he said, smiling back at her.

"Good, because you're stuck with me now." She kissed him again. "Now do you want to get out of the shower or shall I continue my experiment?"

He put his hands on either side of her face and kissed her deeply, running his tongue along the inside of her mouth, against her teeth and lips, and then gently sucking her tongue until he coaxed it into his own mouth. Her hands gripped his biceps tightly, and he knew he'd succeeding in drawing out at least a fraction of that flustered yearning feeling she so easily brought out in him. "Feel free to continue, Ms. Beesly," he said with a small smile as he released her.

By the time she was finished, Jim was slightly worried that her experiment just might work. There was something about her technique, something about her unabashed willingness to focus on just his pleasure that made it so intense for him. He would probably never ask, but he felt certain she had never done anything like that for Roy. There's no way he would have let her walk out the door if she had.

Water play finally over, the pair wrapped each other up in the biggest bath towels Pam had - they were beach towels, actually - and cuddled up on the bed to dry off. Jim pulled the blankets over themselves and put an extra towel behind Pam's head to keep her pillow dry. 

He looked at her, and for what seemed like the millionth time this week, wondered how he managed to get so lucky. Every single pain he experienced over his love for her seemed so worth it right now. She was everything to him, and she was making it clear that she wouldn't be leaving anytime soon.

What amazed him most was how seamlessly they had slipped into the role of lovers, after all the years of angst and awkwardness. He suspected their bedrock of friendship and understanding was mostly responsible, but he still thought that by this point things might feel different between them. But when he looked at her, she was still Pam. His best friend. Besides the huge increase in sexual satisfaction, he pretty much felt like the same Jim. He wondered if they were supposed to feel different, now that they were no longer "just friends." 

"Do you feel different now?" he asked her.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, now that we're more than friends. Do you feel like we are acting differently to each other, or that you view me differently?"

"Besides the obvious increase in being naked around each other?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Not really," Pam replied slowly. "Are we supposed to?"

"I don't know. Seems somehow like we should."

"Hmm...Maybe we aren't doing it right."

Jim laughed aloud. "Maybe we aren't doing it right??"

"Well, yeah," Pam grinned, "if we don't feel different, maybe we're doing something wrong."

"Has it felt wrong to you?"

She smiled. "No. You?"

He shook his head emphatically. "God, no."

Pam was quite for a moment. "Well, maybe we should try again - you know, just to be sure."

Jim looked over at her, and saw a look of pure mischief on her face. He couldn't resist smiling at her. "Good thinking, Beesly."

It was close to noon when Pam decided they better make something to eat before she left for Abby's. They finally agreed to get dressed, with Pam throwing on a faded pair of jeans and a slightly oversized navy blue sweatshirt with Eeyore on the front.

"Eeyore, Pam? Really?" Jim motioned to her shirt. "Is that the statement you want to make about today?"

"Hey, I love Eeyore," she protested.

"But he's such a downer!" Jim teased, pulling on his jeans. "Do you think there's been anything negative about the last twenty-four hours? And what about Abby? I don't think she's going to appreciate staring at Eeyore all afternoon in her condition."

She laughed, looking at him through her mirror as she brushed her hair. "Sorry, but my pink unicorn and rainbow sweatshirt is in the wash."

Jim made a face of disgust. "Good to hear. No, you need a more positive, energetic shirt - hey, you got a Tigger sweatshirt instead?"

"Sorry, no Tigger, Jim."

"I am seriously going to have to buy you one. Tiggers are wonderful things."

"Their tops are made out of rubber, their bottoms are made out of springs," Pam continued the rhyme, grinning.

"Exactly."

"You know," she paused. "You are very much like a Tigger, I must admit."

"Is that because I'm the only one?" He made the classic Jim face, which made her turn around.

"Indubitably," she replied, flicking his bangs out of his eyes and kissing his forehead. "You get me a Tigger sweatshirt and swear I'll wear it everyday."

"Deal," he replied. "At least I'll have something to go do while you're gone."

"Crybaby," she teased. "I swear I won't be gone that long. I'll be back in time for you to take me out to dinner."

Jim stood up, and finished up the last few buttons on his blue and white pinstriped shirt.

"Nice," Pam said, in her best Kevin voice. "I don't think I've ever seen that shirt."

"Probably not," he replied. "It's not a work shirt."

She put her hand against his chest, her fingers lightly stroking the material. "You're right," she said softly. "I guess I've never really stopped to think about how so much of our time together has been entirely at work. You've probably got whole wardrobes I've never seen."

He sat back down on the bed, troubled by the sound of sadness in her voice. "It doesn't matter, you know? It's just stuff."

"Yeah, but there's so much we really don't know about each other, isn't there?"

He took her arms and pulled her closer to him. She stood between his legs and put her hands on his shoulders. "It doesn't matter, Pam," he repeated. "We already know the important things about each other, don't we?"

"I guess so."

"You guess so?" he teased her gently. "Do you think I'll find something under your bed that will suddenly change how I feel about you? Or something in a box in the back of your closet?"

She smiled slightly. "Well, I do have a collection of Tiger Beat magazines that featured Ben Savage from when he was in Boy Meets World."

Jim pushed her away. "Oh my God, how could you? We are so through." He succeeded in making her laugh. "Seriously, though? You don't really have that, do you?"

Pam laughed harder, nodding her head. "I was in love with him for years. He was my first television boyfriend."

Jim reached out and pulled her back to him, setting her on his knee. "Oh Pam," he sighed. "I had such hopes for us, too."

She put her arms around his neck, hugging him close. "You're a dork," she said.

"That's what I've been hearing," he replied, returning her hug with his arms around her waist. "But I'm not the one with the Ben Savage library."

Eventually she stood up, kissing his cheek. "I'm going to have to leave soon and we haven't even eaten."

"Not a big deal," Jim said. "Do you want me to stay here or go to my house?"

"Doesn't matter. I'll call you when I'm getting ready to leave Abby's. I'll find you."

They lunched and tidied up the living room, and Pam was soon off to console her friend. Jim remembered his promise to buy her a Tigger sweatshirt, so he decided to pack up his stuff and head home after shopping. Maybe tonight at his place could be a good plan, he thought. He began to think about what he should do to make it special.

A quick stop at the Disney Store in the Steamtown Mall resulted in one orange and grey Tigger sweatshirt for Pam, so Jim found himself at home just after three o'clock. He stretched out on the couch and soon fell asleep to the sound of a college basketball game playing out on ESPN. 

At four o'clock the door bell rang, and at the second ring Jim finally stirred. He walked to the front door yawning, looking forward to having Pam back. He was more than a little surprised then, to find Parma standing on his doorstep.

"Oh right," Jim said, yawning again, "Would you believe I forgot?"

Parma's eyes grew big. "You forgot? The last day of the twelve days and you forgot? Wow, you've changed your tune since yesterday."

Jim felt a bit guilty. "Hey, I'm sorry about that - I was more than a little rude to you, I think."

Parma shook her head. "Not rude, just impatient. But now you seem like you don't even care - "

"Oh, I care," Jim insisted, signing the last delivery slip. "Trust me, I care."

She handed him the smallish, rectangular box. "Well, here it is, gift number twelve. I need to point out that the sender indicated that this last gift is very time sensitive, so open it immediately."

He chuckled. "Right, like I wasn't going to anyway."

She grinned. "I know, but I have to pass the message along." She put out her hand to him. "Well, good luck, Jim. I hope you and your True Love are very happy together."

He ignored her hand and gave her a hug instead. "Well, I hope I see you again soon, Parma," he replied. "If I'm right about my True Love, something tells me I will."

Parma raised her eyebrows. "I guess we'll see then, won't we?" She gave a small wave as she walked off his stoop and got into her car. 

Jim closed his front door and leaned against it, looking down at the white box in his hand. He walked into the kitchen to open it, grabbing some scissors to cut the tape. He sat at the table, and pulled out a familiar blue plastic video cassette box. The white label along the spine read Scrantonicity. Jim wasn't sure whether to laugh or to cry. He still remembered the afternoon he first saw this video, the afternoon before Casino Night. The last afternoon things were good between him and Pam for a long, long time. He set it aside, wanting to wait until Pam returned before watching it again. If she wanted to send a bigger sign of being behind all of this, he couldn't honestly think of a better one than that video. 

The final stained glass ornament was red and blue and green. A round drum, almost toy-like, with light yellow sticks resting across the top. The Twelfth Day of Christmas. He held it up to the kitchen light for a while, feeling a bit sad that it was coming to an end. 

He turned his attention to reading the message. He was surprised to find that it was as much a sentiment as it was a directive:

I happen to know that you have great respect for people who have never given up on their dreams. Well, tonight's mine. 

Care to meet your True Love face-to-face? Then read this carefully: It's a special night, so dress your best (I've always been partial to that new grey pinstriped suit), and don't forget to wear your red Chuck Taylor's. At no later than 5:30pm, but no earlier than 5:15pm - go to your desk at work to find out where to meet. I swear it will be worth your effort.

He stared at the message for the longest time, a smile unable to leave his face. What in the world was she up to? he asked himself. Oh, the questions he had for her when this evening was finally over. He looked at the clock. He had roughly forty minutes to get dressed and out the door to get to the office shortly after five-fifteen. He went upstairs to figure out what shirt and tie he should wear with the grey suit. 

Despite such seemingly simple wardrobe choices, Jim struggled to get out of his house on time. He kept alternating between what he thought looked best with the suit, his blue shirt and grey tie, and what he thought Pam might prefer. His mother had given him an expensive red silk tie as a gift when he moved back to Scranton, and he hadn't worn it yet as it seemed a bit too nice for work. He thought it might work with his grey suit if he wore a white shirt, but he wasn't sure. He wished Pam were there to decide for him. He thought she'd prefer the color, and the newness of it, and in the end he went with pleasing Pam, but felt a bit rushed as he made his way to the office. 

Being a Saturday in January, when he arrived darkness was falling and the office building was empty. He used his master key to get in, and flicked one set of lights on. He walked over to his desk, admittedly a tad nervous about what he might find. Sitting on the top of his keyboard was an ivory envelope and a red rose boutonnière. He picked up the rose and absentmindedly smelled it. He noticed it complimented his red tie. He was glad he'd made the bolder color choice. 

He sat down in his chair and opened the envelope. A plastic hotel card key was inside, along with this message:

Your presence is requested in the Phoebe Snow Suite of the Lackawanna Station Radisson. Upon entry into the hotel lobby, walk to the first set of elevators on your left. The last elevator in the row will have a card key lock instead of an up button. Insert the enclosed key to gain entrance to the elevator, then select the button marked PSS. It will take you straight to that suite.

Dinner will be served shortly after 6:00pm. See you there.

Jim arrived at the Radisson at ten to six. The parking lot was full, and he had to circle around twice before finally finding a spot. As he approached the front doors of the lobby, he could see a wedding reception in progress through the side windows. He smiled at the sight of the bride and groom standing together, and realized it was the first wedding he'd observed in quite some time that didn't leave him feeling cold. Maybe the concept of marriage was making a comeback with him.

He walked through the lobby, and found the directions he'd been given were accurate. Soon he found himself riding up in the elevator to the Phoebe Snow Suite. He thought about the reception downstairs and wondered what type of wedding he and Pam might have one day - if they had one. Maybe they'd just elope. He just hoped she hadn't soured on the idea of marriage someday, because he knew one day he was going to marry her. The elevator dinged and the doors opened into a small foyer. A heavy wood door opened, and Jim found himself once again facing Parma. 

"Good evening, Jim," she smiled. She was dressed not in her usual orange polo shirt and jeans this time, but in black slacks and a short-sleeve black turtleneck. 

"Well," Jim smiled back, "Fancy meeting you here."

"You look handsome," Parma replied, "Please come in."

Jim entered the room and Parma closed the door behind them. It took a minute for his eyes to adjust to the dim light, but when they did he saw he was standing in a sitting room of sorts, with a small round table with two chairs set up in the middle of the room. The blinds were pulled back on all the windows, offering a clear view of downtown Scranton, but the majority of light was coming from the plethora of candles that were sitting lit on just about every flat surface of the room. Jim was nothing short of impressed.

"Wow," he said. "This - this is nice."

"You haven't seen anything yet," Parma replied. She walked over to him and straightened his rose boutonnière. "Wait right here. I'll let her know you've arrived."

Jim walked over to long windows that faced the cityscape. He put his hands in his pockets and tried to remind himself that there was no reason to feel nervous. This was just Pam, and whatever she'd pulled together, she was still Pam. They'd already been through the awkward stuff, right? This was just a little something special, but nothing should be surprising by this point. He couldn't have been more wrong. 

"Jim?"

He heard her voice and turned around. If he'd been a cartoon character he was certain his eyes would have popped about fifteen feet from their sockets and his tongue would have rolled out across the floor. She was nothing short of breathtaking.

Pam stood in the doorway between the sitting room and the hall to bedroom, wearing a flowing red dress of velvet and sheer chiffon that made her look ethereal. It was a very medieval styled dress; high waisted with a deep rounded neckline, long sleeves that split at the elbows into the sheer material, and the tiniest of trains on the back of her gown. There was gold trim along the collar, under her bust, and at the elbows as well. 

Her hair had been set in large curls, nearly all of it left to hang down naturally around her face and down her back. She wore no jewelry but a few sparkling clips in her hair around her temples to keep her curls out of her face. Jim noticed that her feet were bare, with a glimpse of red visible on her toes. Her fingernails had been painted red, too. 

They stared at each other for some time in silence. Pam looked a little shy. Jim looked completely bewitched. Pam finally walked over to him.

"Hey," she said, bringing her hand up to the rose on his lapel. "You look wonderful. I've never seen that tie before." She ran her fingers over it slowly. "Is it velvet?"

Her question seemed to rouse him from his daze. "No, actually it's silk. My mother gave it to me when I moved back. I've never worn it before tonight because it was too expensive for work."

She smiled. "We match," she said, laying the tie against the upper part of her sleeve.

"It must be fate then," Jim said. 

She laughed softly. "So I hope you aren't too disappointed in finding out that your True Love has been me all this time. I know it probably comes as a shock."

"I have to admit it's going to take me a while to get used to the idea," he agreed. "I had been holding out hope that it was going to be Kevin. I never thought Stacey was right for him."

"I can imagine your last gift probably did get you thinking it was going to be Kevin."

He laughed. "Naturally. And he did notice yesterday when the Glenlivet arrived."

"Oh, right. I completely forgot to ask you about yesterday's gifts."

"Getting a little lax at the end, huh?"

She smiled up at him. "No. I just had other things on my mind yesterday."

"I remember. The trade deficit with China I think held a lot of your attention yesterday." He stepped closer to her. "Now that you've revealed yourself as my True Love, shouldn't I kiss you or something?"

"Ah - wait a minute." Parma voice was heard before she was seen walking into the room. "No funny stuff until we get some photos."

She was carrying a camera on a tripod. "Right where you are by those windows will be perfect," she said, setting up the camera.

"What a minute," Pam said. "You never said anything about pictures."

Parma looked up from the camera. "You cannot be serious. I didn't go through all of this set-up not to have photos to remember this by. You may never look this gorgeous again, girl, and I want proof it happened."

"Thanks," Pam said sarcastically, though she was still smiling. 

"Jim, tell her," Parma said. "You want photos of her looking that hot, don't you?"

"Definitely," Jim nodded. "Lots of them."

"I'll take a few if you're in them, too," Pam agreed, pressing her fingers against his chest.

"Of course he's going to be," Parma replied. "You guys just stand a little closer together and we'll have this done. Your dinner is probably ready to arrive."

Parma set the camera to compensate for the low light levels and began to take photos. Despite Pam's complaints that it was not Prom night, Parma managed to take a good dozen or so of them both before announcing she was done. She folded up the tripod and told them they should be seated for dinner.

Pam turned to Jim. "I think a kiss would be nice first," she said. He smiled and happily obliged. When he pulled back he stroked the side of her face with this left thumb.

"I have so many questions to ask you about all of this," he said.

"We've got this suite until tomorrow," she replied. "I'll be happy to answer every question you have." She started to walk toward their dinner table. Jim reached out and touched her arm, causing her to turn back toward him.

"I didn't get a chance to tell you how stunning you look," he said, his hand still holding on to her. "You're absolutely dazzling tonight."

Pam glanced down to the floor and he could see her blush even in the dimness of the candlelight. "Thank you."

"I mean it. You know I always think you're beautiful, but tonight? Pam, wow. Just wow." He leaned over and kissed her temple. "I never want to forget how you look right now."

Before Pam could respond the door to the foyer opened and in came two people dressed like Parma in all black, both pushing serving carts. Jim walked Pam to her chair, then sat down opposite her. Parma came back from the other room, and started serving the dinner.

"I probably should explain who these people are," Pam said to Jim. "They're are all friends of mine from art school, but more importantly, they are the ones pretty much responsible for tonight"  
"Okay," Jim replied. "Hello."

"Well, you know Parma. This is Abby and Nathan,"

"Abby from the break-up this morning Abby?"

The dark-haired woman laughed. "Yes, but no break-up. It was just the ruse to get Pam away from you."

"Nice," Jim replied with a grin. "and I was feeling sorry for you."

"But look what the trade-off was - I was responsible for Pam's make over."

"It's true," Pam nodded. "She did everything. She even made this dress."

"Made?" Jim was impressed. "Wow. You are my new best friend, Abby."

"Nathan is the one you should thank for the stained glass ornaments," Pam continued. "He designed them and he and a few others made them."

Jim shook Nathan's hand. "Very nicely done. They're just amazing. Thank you."

"But Parma is the one who deserves most of the credit for all of this. She's the one who browbeat me into doing it."

Parma laughed. "Yes, and that's exactly how it happened. I will leave the whole story for her to tell you, Jim, but don't believe it wasn't her idea all along. She just needed some coaching. The hours I spent listening to her go on and on and ON about you - well, lets just say she owes me."

"Okay, enough about that for now," Pam said quickly, giving Parma a mock glare.

Jim grinned at Pam. "I look forward to hearing all about it."

"Parma's also responsible for tonight in that her uncle is one of the managers of the hotel," Pam continued.

"My Uncle has always been receptive to a good love story," Parma said. "I wouldn't be surprised if he seeks you out before you leave tomorrow."

Abby spoke up. "Okay, well let's get this dinner before it gets cold, and then we can get out of here. There are way too many people in this room right now."

Dinner was chicken marsala, roasted new potatoes, and balsamic glazed carrots. Nathan opened one of the two bottles of champagne that sat in the iced bucket, and Abby lifted the final cover up to reveal raspberry cheesecake for dessert. Jim looked over at Pam and noticed her delight over the choices meant she hadn't known herself what they would be bringing. Even dressed so glamorously, her excitement over raspberry cheesecake reminded him of a little girl, endearing her to him even more.

They both thanked Pam's friends effusively for everything, and then it was just the two of them. They smiled at each other from across the table, and Jim picked up his champagne flute. "A toast?"

Pam smiled broadened as she picked up her glass. "To my True Love," she said.

"No," Jim corrected. "To mine."

"To True Loves finding each other," she replied.

He clinked his glass to hers. "Yes, definitely."

As they raved over the dinner and began to drink more champagne, Pam started dropping details over how the whole idea got started.

"Parma was right," she said, looking up it with just a touch of embarrassment on her face. "I hadn't been friends with her very long before I dumped my whole story of lost love into her lap. I think it was because she was the first real friend I'd had - I mean, you were gone, and I felt so alone for quite a few months."

Jim reached across for her hand. "I'm sorry," he said simply.

She nodded. "She and I became friends around the end of August, and so by the time I found out you were coming back she and I were fairly close. When I told her the news she immediately began talking about how I needed to tell you how I felt just as soon as I could." She smiled at the memory. "She seemed almost as excited about your return as I was."

Pam ate a little more dinner and took a deep sip of champagne before continuing. "So the day you came back, I had planned out how it would all unfold: you'd return, I'd ask you out for coffee, we'd go out after work, and I'd confess how sorry I was about how things went and how I knew now how much I loved you."

Jim pursed his lips together. "But then I turned you down for that coffee."

Pam nodded. "I really wasn't expecting that. I kind of spent the rest of the day in shock, not knowing what to do. And then that night you told me you were seeing someone, and I realized I was too late."

Jim shook his head and put down his fork. She looked so sad at the memory that he wanted to gather her up in his arms. He squeezed her hand. "The truth is you weren't too late," he admitted. "I was just trying to protect myself from getting hurt again."

"What do you mean?"

"I came back certain you had no feelings for me. I mean, you never contacted me when I was in Stamford, even after you canceled your wedding. I was so afraid to come back and face you, because deep down I knew my feelings hadn't changed, thought I had tried very hard to move on. Then Karen showed interest in me, and she needed no encouragement to move to Scranton. I turned down your offer of coffee because I thought you just wanted to be friends, and I wasn't ready to be that close to you, alone with you, knowing I couldn't have you. Then that night - well, I stupidly said I was seeing someone because I wanted to see how you'd react."

"You didn't!"

He nodded apologetically. "I guess I thought if you had any deeper feelings for me I'd get a glimpse telling you that. But it backfired pretty badly, didn't it?"

Pam shook her head, then rested her chin in her hand. "Oh Jim, we're pathetic, aren't we?"

He gave her a weak smile. "Yeah, we are. But tell me what happened next with you."

"Well, nothing good for a long time, that's for sure. I spent a lot of time pretending nothing was wrong while going home at night and blaming myself for being such an idiot. And when I saw that you were close to Karen, then found out you were dating her?" she shook her head again. "November was not a kind month." She emptied her glass and Jim refilled it for her, his other hand never leaving hers.

"Parma kept telling me that I needed to say something to you, at the very least set you straight on how I felt even if came to nothing, but I just didn't have the courage to face another rejection. I guess I just kept telling myself that if you cared, you'd come to me."

"And I kept thinking the same thing about you, while at the same time telling myself that I was over you, trying to prove it by dating Karen."

"At least you had good taste," she smiled. "Karen is so awesome, which I made it even harder for me. I think I might have said something if you'd been dating someone horribly wrong for you. But it looked to me like she might be good for you."

"In a lot of ways she was good for me," Jim admitted. "But she wasn't you, and I'll always regret hurting her because it wasn't her fault she couldn't be you."

"I'm just grateful that I never had to witness you kiss her," Pam admitted. "I really don't think I could have handled that."

"Yeah," Jim said softly. "Try three years of it."

She shut her eyes for a moment. "I can't even begin to understand how you managed that, and I'm so sorry for all the unintentional pain I'm sure I caused you."

"It's over," he replied. "It doesn't matter now."

"Well, at least my story starts getting better," she grinned, stroking her thumb against his. "At the end of November I discovered the stained glass project Nathan was working on - the one you know so well now." Jim nodded. "I started to think about that song, because it's always been one of my favorite Christmas themes. And at some point, and I'm sure with endless encouragement from Parma, I finally found myself thinking in frustration that I was your True Love, not Karen. How much had we gone through? How close had we been? How could anyone possibly know you better than I did?"

"All very valid questions," he agreed.

"And I guess it started out as a daydream - what I wish I could do to get you to see you should be with me. But I never thought I'd ever actually do it, you know?"

"But then Parma started saying you should?"

"Something like that."

"Have I mentioned how much I love Parma?" 

Pam smiled. "And well you should. The first Saturday in December she was at my apartment, and I'd mentioned the twelve days idea again. She sat us down and worked out exactly how we could do, and she said she'd help in every way possible. She pretty much countered every objection I had with 'And what do you lose if you do this?' She made me see that either I could suffer in silence or take the chance. Either things would work out, or I'd just be back to suffering in silence."

"Who came up with the gift ideas?"

"Oh that was me, totally. I mean, they were coming from me. I wouldn't have let anyone give me advice on them at all." She smiled again. "I spent a lot of time trying to come up with creative interpretations."

"It showed. The very first gift had your handiwork written all over it."

"Did it? When did you first really know they were from me?"

"I'm not entirely sure. I know from the first day I wanted it to be from you. I mean, I ruled Karen out pretty early, and who else could it be?" He shook his head. "But I'll be honest, you played it off so well I had my doubts. You never slipped up once."

Pam squealed. "You have NO idea how hard that was for me to pretend I didn't know anything about it! Sometimes I was sure I had blown my cover. It was always a little easier to hide my enthusiasm when you'd open the boxes with me there, because then I could just channel that into a sort of general surprise over what you received. But there were more than a few times where I felt I was about to slip up and reveal myself."

"Actually, I think it was January second when I finally let myself believe these were all from you," Jim confessed.

"Why? What did I do?"

"Not you, Parma. When she took us to get our cars on New Year's Day, she called you by your name as we got out of the car. I hadn't introduced you, so knew she had to know you through some other means."

Pam laughed again. "Oh, poor Parma. She never let on that she'd done that, and I guess I didn't hear her at the time."

They finished their dinner, and Jim stood up to move their plates back to the serving cart. "Dessert?" he asked suggestively.

"Oh yes, please."

"Great. But first let's have the cheesecake." 

Pam laughed and shook her head. "Dork," she said, her tone full of love. As he placed the cheesecake in front of her she asked, "Is there anything else you want to know?"

"Everything," Jim replied. 

She sighed, then took a bit of her dessert. "Specifics, please?"

Jim tried his cheesecake. It was even better than it looked. "Well, what about the whole delivery scam? Who's idea was that and what was with the white boxes?"

"How you were going to get the gifts was my first objection to whole idea. Parma came up with the idea of pretending she worked for a professional delivery service. Of course I supplied her with your daily schedule as best I knew it, so she'd always be able to find you. She made delivery times random based on her real work schedule, plus she thought it would keep things fresh if you never knew when to expect her."

"What did she do with all those delivery slips I signed?"

"Oh, I have them. I'm sure twelve copies of your signature should come in useful when I put my identity theft plan in place."

"And the white boxes?"

Pam shrugged. "The first handful of boxes we bought were white. After that I just thought it was smart to stay consistent."

"So no deep hidden meaning behind them all arriving in white boxes?"

"Nope. Sorry." She tilted her head slightly. "I could make something up if you'd like a nice little story for them."

He grinned. "No, that's okay. But I appreciate the offer."

They finished off their dessert as Jim tried to think of more questions. He knew he had a long list compiled, but now he was coming up blank. He finished off his glass of champagne and emptied the rest of the bottle between their two glasses.

"Hey," he said slowly, "You started this while Karen and I were still dating. What if we hadn't broken up by this point? Would you still have set up this night?"

"I had promised myself and Parma that I would see this whole thing through regardless of your relationship with Karen. So yes, we'd still be sitting here tonight. I just would have been a hell of a lot more nervous right now, I can tell you that much."

"You're not nervous now, are you?"

"Maybe a little."

"Why?"

"It's all a bit surreal, don't you think? This isn't something we'd normally do, being all dressed up and sitting in an expensive hotel suite."

"I think it's fantastic, actually," Jim said. "You have no idea how much you've impressed me tonight, Pam. I'm so proud of you for doing this."

"Well, it was hardly all my doing."

"But it was, really. You could have easily backed down, and you didn't. I'm grateful for Parma's support, but this all comes down to you thinking we were worth you taking a chance on. Again."

"We are."

"We are," he agreed.

Cheesecake finished off, Pam leaned across the table. "Want to see the rest of the suite now?"

Jim leaned in as well. The table was small enough that he was able to surprise her with a kiss. "I thought you'd never ask."

"Bring the rest of the champagne then," she replied, standing up.

He picked up the unopened bottle and their two glasses and gladly followed her. The dinner had been delicious, the conversation heartfelt and necessary, but what he wanted now was to see that red velvet dress slip off her beautiful shoulders and fall into a pile on the floor. He smiled at the thought.

Walking into the bedroom he found a king-sized bed dominated the room. More candles burned in here, but Pam had turned the bedside lamps up bright. He set the bottle and glasses on one of the tables by the bed. "Very nice," he said.

She took his hand. "You have to see the bathroom." She switched on the bathroom light to find marble sinks and a two person jacuzzi. More candles were already burning in here, too.

"So how long do we get to stay?" Jim said, raising his eyebrows suggestively at her.

She laughed and leaned against him. "Just until tomorrow afternoon. I think we have to be gone by three."

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to face him. "We better get started then," he said, placing a kiss on her bare neck, "we haven't much time."

She relaxed into his next kiss, her hands pushing aside his jacket to rest on the thin material of his shirt. "I have something I want to show you," she said.

"I'm pretty sure I've already seen it," he said, kissing her again.

She giggled, pulling away. "No you haven't, pervert." She took his hand and led him back into the bedroom. She pushed his jacket off his shoulders, and he slipped it off, laying against the back of one of the two chairs in the room. She ran her hand over his tie. "This really is beautiful," she said. "But you can probably loosen it up now."

"Done," he smiled, unbuttoning the top button and loosening his tie. "Shall I take it off?"

"Not just yet," she smiled. "I really like how it looks on you."

She sat on the bed and indicated he should sit next to her. When he did she opened up the bottom drawer of the night stand and pulled out a white box. She placed it between them on the bed.

"Another meaningless white box, Pam?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "But you might find what's inside interesting." She kept her hand on top of it for a moment. "About a week after I broke off my engagement to Roy, I had a very vivid dream about you. The kind of dream where you wake up and it takes you a few moments to convince yourself it wasn't real. In the dream you were in trouble, but I couldn't find you. It was really scary, and in an attempt to get it out of my system I grabbed a sketch book I had lying near my bed and I wrote it all down. It helped me feel a little better, but more importantly it was the start of my really thinking about you and me and our relationship and what the hell had happened. I started writing more than just dreams down. I'd sit down and write about how I missed you, and how angry I was with you, and all the reasons you were wrong and I was right." 

She smiled up at him briefly. "Which as you know, is usually the case." He laughed. "Yep. Continue."

"It started to become sort of a diary - but one only to you. If I found something I wanted to share with you, I'd put it in there. I wondered what you were doing and I told you every boring detail of my life. And by doing all of that, it's how I finally worked out that I really loved you and had made such a mistake in letting you go."

She opened the box, and took out two fat spiral bound sketch pads. "As you can see, it took up more than one book." She handed them to him. "I never shared these with anyone, but I thought you should have them."

Jim took them from her. They were heavy not only in weight, but in what they represented. "Pam," he began, "I don't know what to say." He pushed the white box aside and laid them on the bed. He slowly paged through the first one, the fragments of writing he picked up making his heart hurt. It was all too evident that he wasn't the only one who felt shattered last summer.

He looked up at her. "Thank you. That's all I really know to say."

She nodded. "I know we've not always been able to talk about how we feel about each other."

Jim snorted. "Yeah, you could say that."

"But I want that to change now."

"It has already. There's no reason to go back now."

She watched him as he flipped through more pages. Sometimes she had a small drawing in the corner of a page, or she'd taped a headline or news article. Toward the back of the first book there was a page with just one thing written on it. He's coming back is all it said.

He pointed to it. "You've wasted a lot of good writing space on this page," he joked.

"There wasn't anything else to say about it. If there's any nuance you missed since your return you'll probably find in the second book. I was over-analyzing just about everything then."

Jim carefully closed the books. He slid closer to Pam, and cupped her face with his hands. "You continue to surprise and amaze me. When I think about all the time when all I wanted you to do was walk away from Roy, I realize how much I underestimated you." He kissed her, slow and tender and heartfelt. "I look forward to reading every single word, but I'd rather appreciate you in other ways right now."

She gave in to another kiss, this one slightly more urgent as his hands moved down across her bodice and to her back, in search of the method of disposing with her dress. He soon found the zipper and started to pull it down. Pam pulled back.

"Wait. I have one last thing for you."

"I have everything I need right here," he grinned.

"Seriously," Pam said. "Then I'm done."

Jim released the zipper from his hands and sat back. "Okay, one more thing. Then you're naked."

"Classy," Pam laughed. "Nice to know tonight's little touches are being appreciated around here."

"They are," Jim insisted. He put the notebooks back in the box, and set it on the floor. 

Pam had reached into the top drawer of the bed table as he did that, and he noticed she held a black velvet bag in her hand. She looked down at the bag for a while, as if she didn't know what to do with it.

"I guess this gift represents the point of this whole thing," she began, "besides the fact that I was desperate to get your attention. I don't think you will ever understand how much you mean to me. How much your absence affected me. I sometimes don't believe it's possible to love someone as much as I love you."

Her words held him spellbound. She was so serious, and he could see tears starting to form. He couldn't remember ever seeing her like this.

"We're kind of in a strange place, you know?" She said, finally lifting her eyes to his. "We are so close, and yet all of this is so new."

"Not really new," Jim said.

"New enough," Pam replied. "There are so many things we are going to have to figure out between us. And I don't expect every moment between us to go smoothly."

Jim laughed softly. "No, neither do I. But that's normal."

She nodded. "I know. I just wanted to say that I think we're going to have our work cut out for us. Being together won't just affect us."

He put his hand on her lap. "But it's going to be fine in the end, Pam. It will."

She gave him a smile as tear ran down her cheek. "I think it will, too. That's why I want you have this." She offered her upturned hand with the black velvet bag. Jim could see her hand was shaking.

Jim's brow knitted with curiosity and a sense of something important happening. "What are you up to, Beesly?" 

She laughed slightly. "Just take it, Jim."

He picked up the pouch and immediately felt something round between his fingers. He looked at her again. His mind was racing with the possibilities. He opened the small bag, aware that now his hands were shaking. He took out a slim silver band, unreadable markings imprinted around it.

"I have no idea how far in the future it will be before we decide to get married, or even engaged, but I wanted you to know that as far as I'm concerned, it's already a given." She swallowed, her nervousness evident. "And so I wanted you to have that as proof of my commitment to you. You are my True Love, after all."

He looked up at her, then back down to the ring. "What do the markings mean?" he asked.

"Oh, it's old French. Vous et nul autre. It means 'You and no other'."

Jim nodded, his eyes never leaving the ring. He wasn't sure what to say. He stood up and walked over to the windows. The windows were like the ones in the sitting room, and he stared out over downtown Scranton. He had woken up this morning just happy to have found Pam next to him. He'd waited a long time for her. He had a long standing fantasy of how one day he'd win her, and after that it would all fall in place: getting engaged, getting married, having a family, growing old together. It has been the same dream for so long he wasn't sure he could come up with another one. That was part of his problem these past months - he had no direction if she wasn't a part of his life. And now? Now he had in his hand a ring that said he could have that dream. 

"Jim?" He heard the anxiety in her voice, and realized she might be taking his silence the wrong way. He turned around.

"You don't have to wear it," she said. "I just wanted you to have it."

He walked over to her. "What if I want to wear it?"

Pam looked confused and a bit flustered, and Jim felt a little guilty for leaving her hanging like this. "Well, you could wear it, I guess."

Jim slid it onto his ring finger on his left hand. He wasn't at all surprised to find it fit. "I want to wear it," he told her.

When he offered his hand to her, Pam jumped off the bed and threw her arms around him. "Oh my God, you scared me when you didn't say anything!" She felt him laughing and smacked his shoulder. "You are so mean!"

Jim held her tightly. "Well what do you say when someone makes all your dreams come true?"

"Thank you?"

He laughed again, pulling back to look at her. "Thank you," he said.

"You're welcome," she said, giving him a wink. "You can go back to working on that zipper now."

Jim didn't wait to be told twice, and the rest of the evening was spent with Pam's beautiful red dress lying in a heap on the floor next to the bed, Jim's expensive silk tie, white shirt and grey pants strewn on top.

Jim was lying on his back, Pam snuggled against his right side. She ran her finger across the silver band Jim was still wearing. "I'm glad it fits," she said. "Getting that ring was a quite the ordeal."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, remember that day I had to drive down to Philadelphia?"

"Oh, no. You ran halfway across the state just for this ring?"

"That ring and your red Chucks."

Jim laughed in disbelief. "What happened?"

"Well, first I couldn't find a single pair of size eleven and a half red Converse high tops anywhere in this town. Fortunately my mother had better luck in Harrisburg."

"You sent your mother on a hunt for my gift?"

"She offered! Besides, she likes you."

"She's never met me."

"Well, maybe I've been putting a good word for you."

Jim chuckled. "Thanks. But what happened with the ring?"

"Well," she sighed. "I first found it online, and then a local jeweler said he could get it for me. Last Tuesday he left a message that said he couldn't get it until the end of January."

Jim shifted his position to better see her face. "No."

"Oh, yes."

"That probably freaked you out," he grinned.

"That would be an understatement," she laughed. "I called him back and I think my panic scared him. He found someone who had what I needed, but they were in Philly. And they were only willing to hold it for twenty-four hours."

Jim hugged her. "Oh, Pam." He kissed her forehead. "You poor girl."

"The things I do for you," she sighed. "That was the day from hell."

Without warning, Jim rolled on top of her. "Maybe I can find a way to make it up to you," he said. 

"Maybe," she smiled. "You feel free to give it a try."

Jim's tie: Station Radisson: dress: ring: 


End file.
